War Room.

Last night my goal was simple: Drink spiced rum and Dr. Pepper alone until I passed out.  Well I passed out, at around nine in the evening without a drop of rum.  The drink I described above is called Dr. Octopus and it is delicious by the way.  If you finish the whole bottle of Kraken (preferred spice rum) you get to call yourself Spider-Man.  I am having my morning coffee now and my goal is far greater than that of the previous evening:  I am building a War room.

At present I share a house with a pair of colleagues who are amenable unlike the rest.  Unfortunately however the lease holder has a wife who intends to resume residing with her husband as of March.  Therefore I am to return to single accommodations.  Which gives me an excellent opportunity to restyle my living quarters.  Seeing as the focus of my life is changing the needs of my domicile are also dramatically changed.  I am going to the office supply place today and spending a reasonable amount on preparing for the next stage of my life.  Hanging file folders, a hanging file box to hang them in, whiteboard accouterments, label printer, string, tape, bulletin board, etc.  I will prepare my room for this purpose first and then move all of my living furnishings in around this.

I will be focused, sharpened, driven.  The trick is maintaining it and staying on top of any given task.  My declaration was to focus on myself and so this is my goal.  With regards to the lady in my life if she should so desire to come along there is plenty of space in my life for her and I will be glad to welcome her.  At present however, I cannot be proactive about our relationship as everything that needs to be done is on her end.  My hands are tied.  I cannot push any harder without making myself a nuisance.  I have no desire to do this.  She understands very clearly how I feel about her and that my whole person is devoted to her should she ever want or need me, however I can do nothing at this time for her as much as I should like to (I have offered).  So I am working on me.  For the better me is substantially more beneficial for the future her in the long run.

I have many goal oriented organizational tasks in my life that need sorting so having this space to manage these things will be crucial.  I will be able to break things down in advance of upcoming dates and strategize proactively in order to not only meet but destroy these goals.  I am actually usually very good at this naturally.  I have eternal faith in my capability to this regard and call myself the “last-minute man” as I usually do these things on the fly and with unfaltering precision without a moment to spare.  So, giving myself a leg up, more space and time in order to compose my machinations will put me well ahead of the curve, which is typically where I am anyway but why not all the further?

Every great person has a sanctuary, a lair in which they conceive and from which they launch their plans.  I will have mine.  Every great man has behind him the support of a great woman.  I know who mine is, I am merely keeping busy until she can fill that position.

Edit: I wrote this and liked it, felt it was applicable in some way.

My mane is so thick because I don’t have time for crumbs like you. I keep it thick so that when I’m taking big face-full bites out of your whole world, crumbs like you just bounce right off. Everyone thinks they want a mane like this but they can’t maintain it.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown, this is so that when the crown is not worn and another strikes at it, their wrist is broken and the head remains high and unmoved.
If you are a hyena, go be a hyena. go share nervous laughter with the dozens of others that you need to build yourself up. I will be napping in the shade, alone. You will know where to find me when you need to prove something to your equally nervous friends.

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Why?

Here’s a strange question: Why?
It’s considered socially responsible and well-adjusted of us to desire order and peace. But, why? There isn’t a thing that man has done that isn’t the result of conflict. We outright declare that much of our progress is made through an arms race. We are taught that a story cannot exist without conflict. Conflict defines us whether we agree with this concept or not. “The Greatest Generation” is so called due to their triumph over not only the great depression, but the great war(s most specifically the second). So why? Why then are we so opposed to that which molds us, advances us and defines us?
Have we stopped to consider a world absolutely free of conflict? This is no utopia that you propose. This is the societal equivalent of a lifelong waiting room. More and more people, making more and more art, needing more and more food, taking more and more land. Until the art is bland and pointless and evokes no response. Images scraped over by dry blank eyes. Ears incapable of telling the difference from one song to the next. Until the land is too full of people to grow crops or livestock. Yet, we will be ingenuous and usurp all of this. We will find a way to grow food hydroponically, indoors. In labs. We are mostly already here. We will eventually develop a soma that will allow us to cope. Big pharma is halfway there. We will write stories. Imaginative tales of conflict that will frighten us back into shape. None of us ever having to struggle our entire lives, grateful that will will never have to.

We will know no satisfaction in a conflict-free world.  There will be no triumph, no sense of accomplishment.  We will be spoonfed meager goals which we will efficiently and effortlessly complete so that we may report for another.  Never once will we take away any glory from this.  To throw our efforts into a giant mill and watch it ground together with the labours of an infinitesimal number of others.  Indistinguishable.  Insignificant.  Undefined.  When we die there will nary be a comment about our exemplary performance.  The fine example we had set for all others to aspire to.  We will truly all be even.  Equally disregarded as merely another life in a sea of mediocrity.

Not only should we not fear nor shy away from conflict, we should embrace it.  For above all other things it is this which raises us above our peers.  Makes evident our outstanding nature and challenges others to surpass it.  The meals that we earn taste all the more sweet because we know that we are solely responsible for having them to enjoy.  So too is the victory earned through conflict.  We cannot sit idly by resting in the sheltered glory provided us by our forefathers.  We must go and take our own.  Carve our own path.

Be diplomatic.  Why?  There is no need for diplomacy if there is nobody left to argue with.  They say: violence doesn’t determine who is right, only who is left.  Why?  Is this intended to dissuade me?  The result is the same; minus one challenger, plus one delicious victory.  Yet, it doesn’t end here because a victory for you is tenfold in the eyes of potential challengers.  One conflict quells a potential dozen.

So, here is a strange question: why?  Why would you crave an empty world lacking in ways to challenge and define yourself?

Hello My Name is America

I had nowhere else to put this:

Hi, I’m the United States of American and I suck at almost everything I do with the exception perhaps of prisons and military spending. I misspell large quantities of basic english words. I am one of three nations (none of which are civilized) to use the imperial system for measurements of space and volume. I am one of three nations (none of them civilized) to use middle-endian date format placing the month before the day then following them both with the year in an order that is pretty much the opposite of logical. If I could be anthropomorphized by a single character it would be Sloth from The Goonies, because I’m big and tough but I can’t think at all.

My legal system spends billions fighting marijuana a drug that is not only harmless but also makes people generally more affable and pleasant. I have placed all of my future in oil and automotive yet these things are already endangered, but rather than admit this and shift my focus I am belligerently enforcing the use of oil and sale of internal combustion engines to the detrimental point of maintaining ongoing unsustainable wars. Wind, solar, geothermal and tidal power would do exceptionally well in my geography but I really don’t give a fuck. My goal is taking money from others. I just want other people’s money, I don’t care what the ACTUAL cost is. I just want the useless pieces of paper to throw around even though eventually with the way I am destroying the world you won’t be able to trade them for anything.

I’m addicted to firearms and I am slowly killing myself with them. My doctor is always prescribing me smaller and less unstable guns to help me stem my addiction but only the biggest, greasiest automatic, large ammo capacity, long range firearms will satisfy me. Every time a part of me dies from the firearms I complain that it was because I didn’t have enough firearms, paradoxically. I condescend to everyone and stand in the mirror telling myself that I am the best thing that has ever happened for about 23 hours of the day so that I believe it for the remaining 1. I am the biggest mistake that has been allowed to exist on this planet yet even though well over half the planet cannot abide me in the least I am convinced that I am the protagonist.

I am colourblind… in the sense that I can only see black and white and I only like white. Everything else is black and therefore bad. Even all women are black. Don’t ask me to explain why I think that, but I will be damned if women can have power over themselves in any way. Those whores can’t make decisions and that is final. Especially ones that regard their reproductive rights. If they just weren’t stupid dirty sluts then they wouldn’t have a problem. I value them based on their appearance alone and I want to fuck them. But if they want to fuck I want to execute them.
My president who is essentially my id should be a reflection of all of these things, though for the last 8 years he has not been and I have been suffering from cognitive dissonance. Soon I will be done bettering myself in any significant way though and will be right back on track to make mistakes and bad decisions with the liberty I was gifted by France. France, a nation that is better than me in pretty much every way, including militaristically, but I judge them based on one war that they hadn’t been prepared for due to massive industrialization. France is thin, sexy and attracts all the women I want to sleep with so of course I am jealous. I only just realized that I can’t buy history nor culture so I have decided upon a trend of ignoring these things completely just to spite those that have it. Mine is a culture of ignorance and inglorious unsophistication.

I hate the whole world for not being more like me.  When I die, most likely of a heart attack, I will blame everyone else.