Several rants will drop after I lose my internet connection, scheduled in advance.
But only a few really matter. Like this one.
Folks like to call me lazy, say I'm just here with my hand out for freebies.
If this was true, then why did I not file immediately for unemployment, but instead live on what little savings I had, trying to find a job? If this is true, why have I never collected unemployment in my life? If this is true, why is it I not only drove on, keep filing job applications, instead of trying to find some loophole, like many others do, to collect the various funds for disabilities that can be real, or imagined?
All I asked of society was a job. Denied that, I was reduced to holding a sign to survive, to even use a bathroom first thing in the morning, many times.
So, here it is. Who is lazy, the guy who runs through his savings to survive off the dole, or that idiot who files each time, gets money each time, and then complains about others milking the very system they bitch about?
Have others in my family gotten such help? Yeah, but they are not me. I'm the dude who took his lumps, and stood his ground to get back on his feet each time. Not the fools who bitch about what others get, then takes the same thing, saying "but *I* deserve it.
Ask yourself this, folks. If I'm lazy, what the hell does that say about you, if you ever received the aid I was denied or eschewed?
Besides, it no longer matters. I've made a hellish choice, one that will set me at odds with everyone soon. You see, I no longer see a reason to remain part of a nation and society that kicks folks aside, just because it makes others profit, or to feel better.
Yeah, "Man Without a Country" time, people. My country turned its back on me, I turn mine on it. You can all go your merry way to Hell, floating along the toxic streams of media you like to spew at each other in that leaky hand-basket of your silly beliefs. Me, I'm headed into some hills, to leave you all to sink. I suggest those that intrude upon my solitude not get hurt or in a bind. After all, why should I help you if you do. The only reason I see for such is meeting the eyes in the mirror, and like most of you, I'm tired of doing that, so I'm not taking one with me.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Unreasonable...?
Folks often say I'm being unreasonable when I draw a line in the sand, and say: "No more." What they fail to see is how far I have already, by that point, compromised my personal beliefs, giving way to their will.
So, as I wrap up my last few days in a Society I find to be unreasoning, lacking in the ability to compromise with me, I have to make a few last jabs at the inflated egos that needled me that way, over the years.
Where were my compromises? Gee, let's take a look.
I have long held that Saturday was MY Sabbath, but few ever honored that belief, demanding I not only work my Sabbath day, but theirs as well, to cover for their never showing for a shift or job. Which I did, yes, while complaining, but I did it.
I used to have a copy of a one week pay stub with one hundred hours on it. Yeah, I work overtime, many times to the detriment of my health, mental and physical. I did it, but pushed for a reduction in over-utilization of resources, as humans have limits, both socially set, and physical.
I rarely took all my time off at companies, not from lack of desire, but lack of opportunity. You see, someone had to cover other folks' time off to relax, and it far too often was me.
Politically, few hold the same views I do, so when I raised mine, and got slapped around for them, or objected to others jamming theirs down my throat through intimidation or threats, they screamed I was insane. Well, you folks are all getting your ways, so I'll just sit back, trying to resist the urge to say: "Saw that coming." when your house of cards collapses.
There are many such events. Folks tell me to stop lying, then turn around to urge me to lie if that is what it takes to get a job... fools. Don't you see that is where the issue is, that your society is then built on lies, and truth becomes just something no one ever wants to hear?
There are many more issues, where others were just as unreasonable as me. But one stands out in my mind, right now, being so close in time.
Is it really so unreasonable to think hiring the guy who never got a dime of Unemployment, over some one who already has a job, but just feels the need to jump for another, is fair?
Think about that one. I know I do, and my conclusions about those who passed me over, well, to say the least, be glad I will not sit as judge or jury, come that fabled Judgement Day so many boast of being able to bypass through just believing in certain things, not living them.
We are at WA minus eleven days, and counting. Not a very big window of opportunity left to change my mind about walking away, to be the modern "Man Without a Country".
So, as I wrap up my last few days in a Society I find to be unreasoning, lacking in the ability to compromise with me, I have to make a few last jabs at the inflated egos that needled me that way, over the years.
Where were my compromises? Gee, let's take a look.
I have long held that Saturday was MY Sabbath, but few ever honored that belief, demanding I not only work my Sabbath day, but theirs as well, to cover for their never showing for a shift or job. Which I did, yes, while complaining, but I did it.
I used to have a copy of a one week pay stub with one hundred hours on it. Yeah, I work overtime, many times to the detriment of my health, mental and physical. I did it, but pushed for a reduction in over-utilization of resources, as humans have limits, both socially set, and physical.
I rarely took all my time off at companies, not from lack of desire, but lack of opportunity. You see, someone had to cover other folks' time off to relax, and it far too often was me.
Politically, few hold the same views I do, so when I raised mine, and got slapped around for them, or objected to others jamming theirs down my throat through intimidation or threats, they screamed I was insane. Well, you folks are all getting your ways, so I'll just sit back, trying to resist the urge to say: "Saw that coming." when your house of cards collapses.
There are many such events. Folks tell me to stop lying, then turn around to urge me to lie if that is what it takes to get a job... fools. Don't you see that is where the issue is, that your society is then built on lies, and truth becomes just something no one ever wants to hear?
There are many more issues, where others were just as unreasonable as me. But one stands out in my mind, right now, being so close in time.
Is it really so unreasonable to think hiring the guy who never got a dime of Unemployment, over some one who already has a job, but just feels the need to jump for another, is fair?
Think about that one. I know I do, and my conclusions about those who passed me over, well, to say the least, be glad I will not sit as judge or jury, come that fabled Judgement Day so many boast of being able to bypass through just believing in certain things, not living them.
We are at WA minus eleven days, and counting. Not a very big window of opportunity left to change my mind about walking away, to be the modern "Man Without a Country".
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
PO'd, don't care who knows it....
AS you may have noted, if you've seen my other blogs, I'm burning off steam by jamming my writings out there, the ones everyone said not to move on with, not out of worry about my ego or how good or bad they were, but out of their own perceptions that I spend too much time writing this fiction..
Hell, the job applications might as well have been fiction, for all the good those 8000 final clicks and paper drops have yielded. At least most publishers have the decency to send a rejection letter. Employers these days rarely do that, even if you interviewed for the job.
So, Yeah, I got pissed off, when something got back to me... words some thought never would...
And I'm doing this to show there was something being worked on most of the time. Yes, I spent a goodly amount of time staring off into space or smoking my pipe, but that was to reflect on what went wrong in the stories or the job applications, not just being a bum.
And, an equal amount of time went to scavenging for food, and holding a sign the last two years, for any scrap of cash to get a hot cup of morning coffee, that pipe tobacco (all too often the cheaper, nastier cigarette rolling baccy, yech!).
My patience is at an end. No one let me take the time needed to set up the back up plan, cleaning these stories up enough to ask 99 cents for them, of which I would have only seen 30 cents, and then only if enough sold to add up to 100 bucks....
That was to be my coffee money, donuts once a week, and baccy cash, so I would not have to hold a sign, and be a true bum, after what I made so far this year ran out, if no job materialized.
So, you got your wish, so-called friends and the members of the family who bad mouthed me from a vast distance.... I got pissed off, tossed it all away, just like always... but with a twist... this time, I merely burned the rights and potential revenue, not the tales. Hmmmm. cagey? could be.
Hell, the job applications might as well have been fiction, for all the good those 8000 final clicks and paper drops have yielded. At least most publishers have the decency to send a rejection letter. Employers these days rarely do that, even if you interviewed for the job.
So, Yeah, I got pissed off, when something got back to me... words some thought never would...
And I'm doing this to show there was something being worked on most of the time. Yes, I spent a goodly amount of time staring off into space or smoking my pipe, but that was to reflect on what went wrong in the stories or the job applications, not just being a bum.
And, an equal amount of time went to scavenging for food, and holding a sign the last two years, for any scrap of cash to get a hot cup of morning coffee, that pipe tobacco (all too often the cheaper, nastier cigarette rolling baccy, yech!).
My patience is at an end. No one let me take the time needed to set up the back up plan, cleaning these stories up enough to ask 99 cents for them, of which I would have only seen 30 cents, and then only if enough sold to add up to 100 bucks....
That was to be my coffee money, donuts once a week, and baccy cash, so I would not have to hold a sign, and be a true bum, after what I made so far this year ran out, if no job materialized.
So, you got your wish, so-called friends and the members of the family who bad mouthed me from a vast distance.... I got pissed off, tossed it all away, just like always... but with a twist... this time, I merely burned the rights and potential revenue, not the tales. Hmmmm. cagey? could be.
Friday, September 12, 2014
A brief talk about my history on the web, and before it.
I've been around for a while, actually. Longer than most remember, or know of.
The Private Island Kingdom, my first "site", actually was an old dial-up BBS, where I just poked fun at life, running a place where me and some friends with computers, which were not as common then, could have some fun role-playing out life on a small island, where I was Dyfedd Rex et Solo, Deo gratis por miraclae pica. King David, the only, thank God for that small miracle. I made wild proclamations, accused folks of having their pirates raid my sacred sarsaparilla cellar for my root beer float fixings, and they defended the actions of themselves and their crews against such, all done tongue in cheek, in good nature, and for fun.
Nowadays, I'm much more cynical, less patient, and don't share the place. In other words, you can read my proclamations, but only I get to make such.
Sometimes, I miss the old days. When I ruled an imaginary island.
today is such a day.
So, in memory of that time.....
Yeah, time for a little fun.
From: His Royal Nastiness, Dyfedd Rex et solo (Deo Graits por miracla!)
To: All Visitors to the Island.
Re: Flirting with the Amazonian Imaginary Girlfriend Cohort.
It has come to mine attention that thou tourists art flirting outrageously with mine royal guards, distracting them from their duties of keeping us safe and entertained by their skimpy chain mail bikinis.
Remember, these art mine employees, and not thine! Distracting them from their duties is a serious breach of the trust extended to thee in allowing docking of thy pirate ships down at the wharfs of LawShark Cove, and grounds for unleashing mine worst weapons upon thee!
Also, it doth further come to mine attention that some scurvy dog pirate hath entered the Cellar of the Sacred Sarsaparilla again, absconding with mine secret float recipes, a growler of mine favorite nectar of the gods, and half a gallon of mint chip ice cream, sans the green dyes. If mine hands find that sea-dog's neck, he shalt surely pay a high price. Thereby, for this theft, and the blasphemy of dating two of mine royal guardians, we hereby and forthwith lay a price on the toupee of Jolly Roger, of six chocolate doubloons.
Writ this day by mine own hand, as thou who fly under the black flag hath absconded with the one wench in my retinue willing to do calligraphy for me,
Dyfedd Rex, King of the Private Island Kingdom.
I feel better already.
The Private Island Kingdom, my first "site", actually was an old dial-up BBS, where I just poked fun at life, running a place where me and some friends with computers, which were not as common then, could have some fun role-playing out life on a small island, where I was Dyfedd Rex et Solo, Deo gratis por miraclae pica. King David, the only, thank God for that small miracle. I made wild proclamations, accused folks of having their pirates raid my sacred sarsaparilla cellar for my root beer float fixings, and they defended the actions of themselves and their crews against such, all done tongue in cheek, in good nature, and for fun.
Nowadays, I'm much more cynical, less patient, and don't share the place. In other words, you can read my proclamations, but only I get to make such.
Sometimes, I miss the old days. When I ruled an imaginary island.
today is such a day.
So, in memory of that time.....
Yeah, time for a little fun.
From: His Royal Nastiness, Dyfedd Rex et solo (Deo Graits por miracla!)
To: All Visitors to the Island.
Re: Flirting with the Amazonian Imaginary Girlfriend Cohort.
It has come to mine attention that thou tourists art flirting outrageously with mine royal guards, distracting them from their duties of keeping us safe and entertained by their skimpy chain mail bikinis.
Remember, these art mine employees, and not thine! Distracting them from their duties is a serious breach of the trust extended to thee in allowing docking of thy pirate ships down at the wharfs of LawShark Cove, and grounds for unleashing mine worst weapons upon thee!
Also, it doth further come to mine attention that some scurvy dog pirate hath entered the Cellar of the Sacred Sarsaparilla again, absconding with mine secret float recipes, a growler of mine favorite nectar of the gods, and half a gallon of mint chip ice cream, sans the green dyes. If mine hands find that sea-dog's neck, he shalt surely pay a high price. Thereby, for this theft, and the blasphemy of dating two of mine royal guardians, we hereby and forthwith lay a price on the toupee of Jolly Roger, of six chocolate doubloons.
Writ this day by mine own hand, as thou who fly under the black flag hath absconded with the one wench in my retinue willing to do calligraphy for me,
Dyfedd Rex, King of the Private Island Kingdom.
I feel better already.
Five year plans, and why I screw them up.
I just had a rather heated discussion with a friend, who knows me well, about how I should just pick some piece of crap five year plan that folks asking that question in job interviews want to hear, and use it.
My problem, what those folks want to hear, would be a lie. Yes, I'd love to spend five years at a company, the problem, about the only jobs I feel able to land in this day and age, five years would be a white flag flapping loud in a gale that flipping burgers would be my life. Did enough of that growing up, in my parents cafe as a teenager.
Look, after what I've been through the last few years, the only two five year plans I have still turn folks off, even with the positive spin put on them, which is a bit of a white lie.
1. To make just enough money off my writings to fund certain fun parts (to me) of my life, like, say eating out with a friend every few months, or going on a vacation (a real one, not a job search or scouting mission, which all but one of my vacations were).
and
2: To actually be at a company five years down the road, without it or me having crossed any legal issues or moral/ethics issues that make one, the other, or both sides want to end it before then.
Yeah. Most times, either I crossed some line, or the company or co-worker did, and it left me out of work. Why? Some friends still remember this phrase, uttered at Green Street (a now defunct bar in Salt Lake City) a decade ago. "I have standards." Actually, more like moral values I am not willing to break for anyone, even if the only folks who like me think I need to, as they do.
I see no advancement, no schooling, not a hint of a chance to improve my situation in life until I have some foundation to build it back upon. Foolish as that may be, think about it. How can you make a plan without being in a position to actually have it come true? Yes, you hear all the stories about how folks overcome such adversity, but how often do they sacrifice their moral values to do it? Considerably more than you think.
So, what plan could I lay out, in what strange way to pitch it, keeping my cynicism in check? That requires thinking, which in my case, links these days to writing. Well, okay, it always has, I just actually toss such things out there now, to show folks that not all my computer time is spent playing games, on social media, or surfing the web.
Breaking it down, honestly, not lying about the plan, would be the hard part. '
Let me try one out on you, who read this blog (or stumbled upon it, and made it this far before yawning and wandering off into more steamy, lurid areas of the web, filled with celebrity gossip and sleazy photos.
the new plan(?): To be a writer and worker, respected and fairly compensated for his work in both realms, and keeping a balanced life between those careers and a small social life.
The only lie there is I want more than a small social life, but at my age, small is better than none, and I went that route several times in my life. Not happy times, and if you think I'm a grumpy old codger now, you should have crossed paths with me when I had no social life.
Would that pitch work? Could I get away with just that much? Doubt it. They always want details. So, expanding it just a touch, you get. And that fairly compensated bit makes me sound greedy or leftist, which I am not. Not to mention the small part makes folks think I
To be a published author, respected poet, solid employee, and still a good friend to those who helped me along the way. For there to be a bit of money each month left over after the bills and a few pleasures to stash away something for retirement. I hope to find myself in a secure enough position to feel the risk of investments is not a crushing burden it is now, to be in a nice place to live, and have my small moments of quiet, out under the stars enjoying their night-show some evenings, sipping a favorite beverage and savoring the moment without worries of is it my last for a long while.
Still stretches the truth, as I don't see the investments part ever happening again, as I always seem to loose out more in the markets than at a race track or casino, the few times I've hit those (still up on that kind of gambling and way down in the stock picking games).
Maybe I could pitch that one, but will my face stay straight? I doubt it. But at least the guy in the mirror won't be too harsh on me for that kind of fudging the facts. Then again, my harshest judge is not those around me, or supporting me, but him, over in the reverse land of reflections. Better take out the investment part.
God knows, the only stock I feel comfy risking cash if I had it, better have some dividend, and be something I use just enough of to get back at least half what I spend on their products each year.
My problem, what those folks want to hear, would be a lie. Yes, I'd love to spend five years at a company, the problem, about the only jobs I feel able to land in this day and age, five years would be a white flag flapping loud in a gale that flipping burgers would be my life. Did enough of that growing up, in my parents cafe as a teenager.
Look, after what I've been through the last few years, the only two five year plans I have still turn folks off, even with the positive spin put on them, which is a bit of a white lie.
1. To make just enough money off my writings to fund certain fun parts (to me) of my life, like, say eating out with a friend every few months, or going on a vacation (a real one, not a job search or scouting mission, which all but one of my vacations were).
and
2: To actually be at a company five years down the road, without it or me having crossed any legal issues or moral/ethics issues that make one, the other, or both sides want to end it before then.
Yeah. Most times, either I crossed some line, or the company or co-worker did, and it left me out of work. Why? Some friends still remember this phrase, uttered at Green Street (a now defunct bar in Salt Lake City) a decade ago. "I have standards." Actually, more like moral values I am not willing to break for anyone, even if the only folks who like me think I need to, as they do.
I see no advancement, no schooling, not a hint of a chance to improve my situation in life until I have some foundation to build it back upon. Foolish as that may be, think about it. How can you make a plan without being in a position to actually have it come true? Yes, you hear all the stories about how folks overcome such adversity, but how often do they sacrifice their moral values to do it? Considerably more than you think.
So, what plan could I lay out, in what strange way to pitch it, keeping my cynicism in check? That requires thinking, which in my case, links these days to writing. Well, okay, it always has, I just actually toss such things out there now, to show folks that not all my computer time is spent playing games, on social media, or surfing the web.
Breaking it down, honestly, not lying about the plan, would be the hard part. '
Let me try one out on you, who read this blog (or stumbled upon it, and made it this far before yawning and wandering off into more steamy, lurid areas of the web, filled with celebrity gossip and sleazy photos.
the new plan(?): To be a writer and worker, respected and fairly compensated for his work in both realms, and keeping a balanced life between those careers and a small social life.
The only lie there is I want more than a small social life, but at my age, small is better than none, and I went that route several times in my life. Not happy times, and if you think I'm a grumpy old codger now, you should have crossed paths with me when I had no social life.
Would that pitch work? Could I get away with just that much? Doubt it. They always want details. So, expanding it just a touch, you get. And that fairly compensated bit makes me sound greedy or leftist, which I am not. Not to mention the small part makes folks think I
To be a published author, respected poet, solid employee, and still a good friend to those who helped me along the way. For there to be a bit of money each month left over after the bills and a few pleasures to stash away something for retirement. I hope to find myself in a secure enough position to feel the risk of investments is not a crushing burden it is now, to be in a nice place to live, and have my small moments of quiet, out under the stars enjoying their night-show some evenings, sipping a favorite beverage and savoring the moment without worries of is it my last for a long while.
Still stretches the truth, as I don't see the investments part ever happening again, as I always seem to loose out more in the markets than at a race track or casino, the few times I've hit those (still up on that kind of gambling and way down in the stock picking games).
Maybe I could pitch that one, but will my face stay straight? I doubt it. But at least the guy in the mirror won't be too harsh on me for that kind of fudging the facts. Then again, my harshest judge is not those around me, or supporting me, but him, over in the reverse land of reflections. Better take out the investment part.
God knows, the only stock I feel comfy risking cash if I had it, better have some dividend, and be something I use just enough of to get back at least half what I spend on their products each year.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Some thoughts.
Having shot off my mouth yesterday, I find the urge to do so again riding high.
So, The complainer is back. But, with some exposition of his stances on things.
Today, I'm on my normal tear against politics. Murky waters you can walk across, if you have the guts and spare clothes to don after finding one of the barely crusted over areas, slide into the mud those folks sling, which is mostly manure, not mud.
Face it, our political system is broken. This is not the first time we've had to fix it, but other than after the two big periods of civil unrest, that was mostly preventative maintenance, not "oh crap, we ruined it" moments.
I keep hearing folks gripe about mob rule, screaming about corporate rule, about everything under the sun. And not a single thing I've seen set forward actually fixes the real problem, the voter apathy problems that in the end keep the status quo.
The source of this is something society has to fix in itself, not in our politics. It is the culture of extremist views, not just left, not just right, that drive our politics, and condemn the middle ground folks as "wafflers" or "gutless".
Takes more guts to wade in, find something that makes both sides unhappy, but works than it does to stand on the sidelines screaming, people. Far more guts. Yes, sometimes an extreme view is needed, but not on every damned issue, like so often happens of late.
We need a third, maybe even a few other, parties, with clout, guts, and determination.
So, The complainer is back. But, with some exposition of his stances on things.
Today, I'm on my normal tear against politics. Murky waters you can walk across, if you have the guts and spare clothes to don after finding one of the barely crusted over areas, slide into the mud those folks sling, which is mostly manure, not mud.
Face it, our political system is broken. This is not the first time we've had to fix it, but other than after the two big periods of civil unrest, that was mostly preventative maintenance, not "oh crap, we ruined it" moments.
I keep hearing folks gripe about mob rule, screaming about corporate rule, about everything under the sun. And not a single thing I've seen set forward actually fixes the real problem, the voter apathy problems that in the end keep the status quo.
The source of this is something society has to fix in itself, not in our politics. It is the culture of extremist views, not just left, not just right, that drive our politics, and condemn the middle ground folks as "wafflers" or "gutless".
Takes more guts to wade in, find something that makes both sides unhappy, but works than it does to stand on the sidelines screaming, people. Far more guts. Yes, sometimes an extreme view is needed, but not on every damned issue, like so often happens of late.
We need a third, maybe even a few other, parties, with clout, guts, and determination.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Been a while
After a long summer, in which things at last began to turn around for me, I have some complaining still left in me. Not about the big issues, but little ones. Which make up those big ones.
Look, it only requires a few minutes to use your head, and hold back the road rage. Case in point, the unknown woman who screamed at my buddy and me, when stuck in the intersection after the yellow light, 'cause another jerk just had to race the red and win, we took a few extra seconds to move the FULLY LOADED TRAILER behind that under-powered Subaru on the left turn. My point, don't scream at the other victims. Save that for the jerks who never caught Gallagher in the days he harped on the real problem. "Three people turn left on the yellow!" seems to have never spread out of the 80's, sadly.
So, watch who you yell at, folks. After all, there might be a blogger with rage of their own you scream profanities at, only to find yourself outed to all as the very word you screeched, foolishly, at the other victim, who only wanted to avoid the folks in the straight on lanes from t-boning them.
Well, that is all. Yeah, getting a place to stay inside at has mellowed me. For now. I'm positive some moron politician will raise my ire soon, or pundit, perchance a idiot driver or dozen score.
Remember, I'm out there, I blog, and sometimes, I even yield to temptations, such as posting the license plates of such fools.
Look, it only requires a few minutes to use your head, and hold back the road rage. Case in point, the unknown woman who screamed at my buddy and me, when stuck in the intersection after the yellow light, 'cause another jerk just had to race the red and win, we took a few extra seconds to move the FULLY LOADED TRAILER behind that under-powered Subaru on the left turn. My point, don't scream at the other victims. Save that for the jerks who never caught Gallagher in the days he harped on the real problem. "Three people turn left on the yellow!" seems to have never spread out of the 80's, sadly.
So, watch who you yell at, folks. After all, there might be a blogger with rage of their own you scream profanities at, only to find yourself outed to all as the very word you screeched, foolishly, at the other victim, who only wanted to avoid the folks in the straight on lanes from t-boning them.
Well, that is all. Yeah, getting a place to stay inside at has mellowed me. For now. I'm positive some moron politician will raise my ire soon, or pundit, perchance a idiot driver or dozen score.
Remember, I'm out there, I blog, and sometimes, I even yield to temptations, such as posting the license plates of such fools.
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