the ultimate punishment!

new year's eve, and a huge year end commission, and I decided to treat myself and my friends to a wonderful treat: a vaporizer. truly an amazing machine; I opted for a Fiji, a Chinese knockoff of the German-designed Volcano. a good clone of a great machine. testing it in the shop, it seemed to work nicely, so I grabbed it and brought it home.

the three of us are in the basement, excited at the prospect of a greater high than ever, a true state of stunted/altered bliss, and watch in awe as the balloon fills up with a soft white mist of THC, and perhaps the tiniest bit of smoke from the smoldering leaves.

I take the first hit: it is the smoothest, most delicious hit of marijuana I have ever had in my entire life. it is lightly sweet, a colorful flavor very much like the scent of the weed, but in a form that would taste delicious as a seasoning in, say, a cheesecake or a pudding.

I pass the bag, and we continue until it is empty. we are sitting contentedly, having just passed through an entire bowl's worth of weed... and then I realize that the round had probably only "counted" as "a hit." intrigued, I hooked the bag back up to the chamber back up to the base, and started it up again.

the bag filled with the same delicious mist.

we continued with this single bowl's worth of "high quality chronic" for a total of 8 rounds, reaching a peak so high and so smooth one of us said he could never go back. silently we agreed.

then the chamber was opened, and what came out looked like perfectly smokable schwag! complete with crystals! amazed and excited, we decided to load the bong up with the stuff... it filled exactly one bowl's worth. I debated passing the honor in my head, but was too high to finish thinking before I could take the first hit and...


oh.



dear heavenly existence, all things in the universes, holy terrifying mother father oh my....



the darkest, most vile, most evil smoke had filled my lungs and mouths and...




I couldn't shake it. it was death. it was disease. it was a million families' homes burning, with their New Year's Eve's guests, their children, their cars, their kitchens, their beds, all violently burning in the most horrific and devastating of fires, a nuclear fire, a biologically diseased fire, a molten mass of evil.

it was punishment. it was a wall, a line that must not be crossed. I had reached the ultimate high, and in my unawares had reached even further. I brought upon myself a cosmic smackdown, a balancing of the universe, as I was not yet ready to wield such power and wisdom... I have much further to go.

as I finally began to come to, coming out of my fight to shake off the dread, I looked up, and saw it... the card I had on the counter, reading in big letters: 29.

-B-

nothing is simple, but complication is overstated

dating manifests as a far more complicated social apparatus than is reasonable. not that this is surprising, as there is a noticeable lack of reason and rationality in how many people approach relationships. something about the internal interaction between emotion and clear, logical thought... essentially, sanity is diminished by deeper emotions.

I have long been slightly amused, albeit unnerved, by some of the bad choices I've made when it's come to relationships. "Cloud" was probably the most notable example, and continues to be a source of some of my most amusing/mind-numbing anecdotes. but that was far from an isolated situation, and no matter how much more effort I put into preventing new mistakes, there's always something new to learn.

I find myself retracing my steps more and more these days, trying to better understand where I've been to better target where I am headed. in doing so, it has become more apparent that there are so many possible paths that the future is certainly set up to be pretty unique.

in other words, there are too many possibilities to adequately minimize the chance for missteps once steps are being taken. the reasonable thing to do, then, is to keep these thoughts in mind, and refuse to be treated poorly, avoid cruel and dishonest people, and look more for healthy connections than emotional perfection.

but again, reason and emotion don't mix.

-B-

self-calibration

there are over 6 billion ways to live a good life right now, the count increases every day.

people concern themselves with whether they've done enough in life (or for some, too much). there's worry about regrets, and regrets about paths not taken. with so much emphasis on opportunities not taken, it's easy to lose sight of the positive impact of things that have happened.

you should do what you can, and enjoy what you do.

I've found myself increasingly accepting of the pitfalls I face, and in some cases, appreciative of the chance to learn something, about myself, or about large heavy objects falling on my toe. it's proven infectious and addictive to study my mistakes with a sense of curiosity and amusement rather than distress.

but then, maybe my illness has made a masochist out of me. regardless, I remain at least slightly optimistic that I will live to see a trend of ditching the sadness, anger, and despair that poisons so much of our species.

-B-

hey, california!

it's been over three years since my escape from the federal and state government's conspiracy to deem me a Californian, despite my native heritage from not-California. despite my dramatic journey to return home, my years in captivity left me with enough fondness and interest in Stockholm California to stay apprised of various goings on back there. such is the danger of the internet.

after witnessing the surprising uprising against a respectable state governor just to paint him the scapegoat as an excuse to replace him with Conan the Last Action Kindergarten Terminator (subsequently known as The Governator), it was clear to many that we were in a period of amazingly low intellect, and it was hard to remain hopeful about a resurgence of thoughtfulness in the populace.

in less than a couple of weeks, voting will be over, and there is an issue that I don't think is being handled with much thoughtfulness. Proposition 8, a ballot measure that purports to be an effort to protect marriage, aims to annul over 10,000 marriages based entirely on gender. while there is a wide array of angles being used to obscure the legal specifics involved, this is really what it comes down to. people may have their reasons for being sexist or otherwise prejudiced, but that doesn't mean they have truly reasoned these thoughts out.

I admit, I would not be at all surprised to see the same thoughtless populace that elected The Governator get caught up in the twisted, if-I-don't-like-it-then-it-must-be-wrong arguments to destroy over 10,000 marriages, but it would be disappointing to see that thoughtfulness continues to remain elusive in the state of California.

if Proposition 8 does not pass, then nothing will change from what it currently is. however, if it passes, over 10,000 marriages - that's over 10,000 families, many with children - will be annulled. to claim this effort as a protection of marriage is a sham. to think that passing this law helps anyone is a shame.

as difficult as it may be, I am still holding on to that sliver of hope that Californians are at least somewhat redeemable.

-B-

odd to finally see it...

so, it occurs to me that the media is, in fact, pretty liberal when it gets a backbone. however, as much of the world (as well as America) leans to the left of American center, it's seen as pretty reasonable and moderate.

unfortunately, there's still Faux News.

-B

the lesser classes

many American conservatives are afraid of curing HIV simply because they view the illness currently serves against gays and blacks having sex. they view such sexual behavior to be disgusting and immoral, and feign shock when leader after leader in their fold are caught in just such acts. they find fault with the gays and other lesser classes as convenient scapegoats, and are terrified of losing the one tool of oppression and suppression they have left.

they find cancer to be a more palatable cause, though they could hardly be considered strong supporters in finding a cure. so they raise cancer awareness, to prove they have some kind of compassion, and sneakily get away without really pushing for a cure... another illness that can be used as their weapon of fear to keep people in line.

there have been so many near-breakthroughs left completely unfunded, unsupported, that these cures should probably have been found by now. instead, the complete lack of compassion and equality from these self-concerned conservatives has doomed so many people to death... and they justify it to themselves that the dead are inferior, a lesser class, not in need of rights, not in need of life.

-B

looking in the locker room

fingers should never point in a straight line, as that would be misleading (along with socially inappropriate in many cultures). this only results in additional straight-line pointing, which means you are on a downward spiral once it occurs. as this is only ideal during sky diving, it is clearly a tactic that must never be employed without recognition of the vast realm of consequence.

-B

there's twists and turns all over this place!

would you want to know if you were dying prematurely? that's the question I've been pondering... it's the reality I'm now in, as I have changed perspectives recently. but even sitting on the other side, here, I can't tell which I would prefer.

one note: I have at least decided I don't want my mother to know. ever. not the final prognosis, anyway. to do so would pain her every remaining day of her life... and mine.

maybe it'd be a clearer answer if there was a clearer outlook than "it could be weeks, it could be years." the vagueness of the future seems relatively unchanged, though the length of it has definitely been promised as "less."there are so many people terminally ill in the world, yet so many of them continue to live their lives, whether enjoying their last days or squandering them, they continue to live.

I will continue to live.

but in the meantime, I have to figure out how to grapple with the new knowledge that I may completely lose my mind before I die, or I may be mostly clearheaded as my body shuts down. there are more tests to figure out how far along I am, to get a better idea of how long I have. but I do want to know? do I really want to know any of this? all I know now is that I have mutant DNA that will eventually kill me. hardly the superpower I was hoping for.

I've decided it will be slightly less frightening, now that I know what kind of progression to expect. but to know that it is fatal, to be told that I'm dying, that is not something I was really expecting to have to deal with. for all I know, I have six months to live. maybe I have ten years. this isn't all that much more certain than what I knew before... but with a few extra tests, I can find out.

so what do I do?

-B

like night and day

I think there is a decreasing number of "day" people... those who thrive in the light are less self-conscious, and are far more interested in seeing the world clearly, rather than in whether the world clearly sees them.

I am definitely a "night" person.

-B

eventually, perpetuality has to stop (vision pt. II)

I had to convince myself to come back. I did it by coming to deciding where to go and when.... I figured, I can go away later, I think I can remember the way... but if do go away, can I find my way back? do I hold on to home, cling to mother, and only explore while I've got a tether.... am I unable to let go? holding on to only what I know, rather than being willing to let go and fling myself in a single direction, truly unable to find my way back, or maybe just wait until later, make sure the entirety of me is with me when I finally start.

-B

patterns and form (vision pt. I)

everything we do is just patterns within patterns within... much as if fractals reveal the entire meaning of life, everything being looped within and without, cycles and connections, but not just how drunk it feels, but in all things form are an attempt, a desire to bring form out of nothing, or rather, the abstract, that which is no longer once it is grasped, that which always just exceeds your ability to grasp, and that is what makes it, attempting to write it out as if nobody ever tried is pointless... not just because its been done time and again, but because grasping what you were reaching for makes it no longer what you were grasping for, so bringing it into form defies... and again with paths already walked, and analogies already used... and everything is entirely pattern. not as if it were pointless to try, but it IS pointless to try to bring form.


just be.

not even that.

-B

everyone's a hippo, some of us should quit

we should be impressed with ourselves: there is now so much on the internet, that no single person can see everything currently available. at the rate that I'm sure it's expanding (except for those slow-moving neighborhoods in the Upper East Side), we're probably not far from exploding the internet from overuse.

we should be worried about this possibility. thus, I propose finding a fine, upstanding young politician from Bermuda (so they will be taken seriously) to address the world about the dire situation we are in. the internet, a clumsy invention from the 1930's (remember steam engines?) is in urgent need of repair and reinforcement, as nobody ever imagined this road would be so heavily traveled. time to repave!* the potholes, so to speak, have gotten so deep that I'm surprised any of us have tires left.

this only means we are running out of rubber and shiny-spinny hubcaps out of all the mitigation we're doing just to endure the internet in its current condition. an entire black market has probably popped up just to answer this growing demand that our governments and grandmothers aren't meeting. anti-virus software is the new party drug! the situation truly is worsening; next thing you know, we'll need thigh-high boots from the Disco era just to wade through all the fizzling internets.

and at that point, maybe I won't be so concerned about my inability to read all of the internet. without character development (and we know that virus-ridden internets can't be redeveloped), what's the point of reading?

~B

*then maybe I won't keep running into doggie salons that keep trying to wash my nonexistent dog. my screen is waterlogged.

bloodsport initiation

I hate to break the news to you, but it turns out that death and generalizations have struck faster and harder than expected, resulting in an intellectual leak that may not soon see the services of an adequate plumber. while this is likely to result in the end of the moon's orbit and a few other trivial "negative" outcomes, this also means that an outpouring of some undetermined kind may be underway.

specifically, you should probably be worried about what the cosmic viewpoints of the upcoming US elections are... considering that the US Air Force has had an operating policy for over two decades to destroy all incoming cosmic views, due to licensing and leasing arrangements that never materialized.

additionally, you may not be interested in how the downfall of the human race long since hit rock bottom, and we can only look upwards (and blindly at that) from here out. an understandable mentality, once you realize that the nose-stuck-in-the-mud syndrome is clearly the next natural progression in the evolution of the species.


the good news is that there is stuff to be said, stuff to be done, and stuff to be blown out of proportion in the most dramatic and lethargic of ways. it is my sincerest hope that all of the above are successfully achieved, as we've got a long way to go.


watch out for the butterscotch trolls, they are on the rampage.

~B