thoughts..on government reform...self efficiency?..could it work?

..prisoners: work for food-don't produce=don't eat, the amenities provided limited, internal prison life conditions must equate the lowest line of living outside the prison walls (what they will be working to improve).  "chain gang" type jobs required work.  prisoners given payment increments placed into accounts that they collect upon their release..if release is not possible a plan made for kin/ repayment of kin of victims etc...prisoner work, work and supplemental work at the remedial "unskilled" jobs like clean up, farming, factory work etc...that most do not want to do..basis to build skills that can be used after they are released...after repopulation, criminal records may be closed, so not to inhibit further repercussions in obtaining a future job/ life (except in cases of heinous crimes-serial murders, serial-rape...).....for workers at those position etc... everyone on the outside... offered technical education as well as entrepreneur options, plans, opportunities for growth..so their positions may rise past their situations.  

welfare requires documented daily work..weather it be remedial or limited..it must add to society in a way..unlimited children do not equate to unlimited government support...responsibility must be taken into account.

 government representative trust is a necessity, therefore mimicking singapore..substantial salary 1/2 mill..and up given, but with also constant surveillance..no leeway given to lobbyists.  ..merit moved to public knowledge.  teachers can be afforded same benefits without repercussions of parental outcry.  limitations of harbinger of right removal..and a outcry of harassment, due to favoritism due to public information.  government representatives and teachers become coveted positions/ not life jobs-high competition.

localized communities..breaking down "state" run communities further.  self-substaining environments... rooftop farming, local return.  higher payment for spending a percentage monthly to own community..growth outward, but local support first.  communal responsibility.  living where the object is not financial wealth, but self development.

don't know..just a barrage of thoughts/ 2am ideas..flying around.

reading: 
of mice and men - john steinback
crime and punishment - fyodor dostoyevsky
the world according to mister rogers - fred rogers
re-reading:
1984 - george orwell
animal farm - george orwell
waiting for godot - samuel beckett
the last of the mohicans - james fenimore cooper
the red badge of courage - stephen crane
catch-22 - joseph heller

slime for breakfast

so this phobia of sorts keeps on darting its ugly head into..well...my head.  hmm, i guess i wouldn't call it so much a phobia as it is just a memory that creeps up at times to give me shivers..and then a little pain.  it is a reminder of a day, but always triggered by the same image.  maybe by writing it down, it'll stop following me around like a bad fart.  ooh but when it stinks so bad, it's soooo good

alright the day started...or relapsed into light after an all-nighter making a model for work.  as i was walking around in my bare feet on the linoleum portion of my ground floor, i felt a squish and then a gooey sensation.  it was a warm night the past evening so to allow for a cool breeze the sliding door to my den was left slightly ajar.  that perhaps was a mistake.  in doing so i realized i enabled the thing presently stuck to the bottom of my sole to get in.  a big black speckled six inch slug.  it was still squirming as i, in terror reflexively grabbed it and through it across the room.  it's beady little eyes all squinched and oozing of goober snot phlegm left its residue all over my foot and from what i could gather in the aftermath, in traces all along my drawings, floor and carpet as well.  apparently attracted to the ink on my freshly printed out bulletins, i must have inadvertently and inadvisably left the unintentional slug-bait.  the punishment was for the next twenty minutes searching high and low for the newly tossed mollusk and of its friends, i still had work to do, and it would have to be done on the floor.  i didn't want anymore of those creatures crawling beside me or on me.  ....so that was the start.  after that, the gates swung open and freely, or perhaps it was simply magnified by the pure weight of several little things still to come.  

crunched for time and sporting through traffic, i eventually arrived at my dentist for my early morning work.  in reflection i should have gone much earlier.  something wasn't feeling right for a couple of weeks now, but since i had an appointment set up months ago, i just stuck it out and waited for that fruitful day.  lo and behold, they found a cavity, in TWO molars.  the doctor said, i needed to get them cleaned and filled right then or i could spread it over the next two days.  seeing that i already took the morning off from work, just so that this appointment could happen, i told him to go ahead.  at first he didn't apply any anesthesia believing the cavity to be slightly minor.  minutes later into the drill's screams and digging and grinding enamel towards nerves, he thought perhaps i should have a little.  a little is right.  i later found out that, if you drink alcohol, the ability for anesthesia to affectively work is reduced.  his metal tipped scraper felt like sandpaper on an open wound.  my cavity had entrenched itself into little crevices winding around bits and portions of the forlorn tooth.  open mouthed and tilted, trying to accommodate both the boulder fist in my mouth and the cringes that seeped intermittently down my spine, i braved on.  minutes seemed like a lifetime, and as i gathered my senses and wiped away the tear in my eye, the clerk slapped into my hand the bill.  more awe than shock, but the same dumb look followed me to the car.  the day continues and my car was awaiting.

stepping out into a slightly blue sky i thought, that must have been the end of it.  seeing leaflets and florescent orange envelopes flapping on the gullets of wipers didn't phase me.  i had duly put money in my meter and there would be no ticket for me to pay.  patting myself on the back for my boyscout-conformist ways, i wore a slight smirk as i hautingly approached my car.  to my surprise, on the windshield, pressed like sliced ham on a fat man's butt, the ugly thing stared back at me.  i received a summons for not adhering my newly acquired registration ticket to my window pane.  unable to get the glue completely off, without a solvent [still not yet bought] i opted instead to place my new registration tag on my dash board aside of the peeled old glue.  the attendant didn't see it my way, and left a billet for my money to stay in as a present.  in a huff, i picked off the horrid thing and threw it in my passenger seat.  i was miffed, and in a bit of a state but i had to get to the office for the rest of the day.  turning down corners and through side streets i approached the parkway on a bit of slant.  not because i mentally still had things bearing me down but physically i wasn't driving on the parallel.  i was slightly askew.  not noticing it earlier, due to the natural tendency for city streets to be bulging or strung with pot holes, the awkwardness became clear.  i needed to stop the car.  i pulled off on the next corner, got out of the car and surveyed my wheels and found the problem: my front right wheel was flat.  a nail from a construction site must have made its way in and out of my tire, this i concluded due to the fact that there were several other nails still sticking to their plan of being shiny jeweled fixtures on black rubber.  i wish i could say i was suave and had it on and off in a second, but it didn't go that way.  it was becoming warm out and i had developed a sweat.  i dripped from my forehead and as i wiped it off i also got grease from the spare onto my face and shirt.  lovely.  a cleaning bill to boot.

finally getting to the office and sitting down i set for a quick five hours of work...the moirae did not seem that was fitting.  i was called into my boss' office three hours in and told that he needed a job done for a meeting the next morning at nine.  even, by my elementary math, i could make out that i would be working late into the evening.  there will be no sleep for the weary.  the rest of the evening went like clock work, for a clock on rusted coils, but nevertheless like clock work.  i had made some progress, my boss stepped out for an appointment and my co-worker stepped out for some coffee.  i was alone and liking it.  the clicks on my mouse and keypad was meditative and i seemed to be calm..then the phone rang.  on the other side before i finished blurting out hello an angry contractor/client started complaining about building this and that and the next thing.  i tried to get in a, "i'm sorry but the owner is not in," but he would not stop.  in a fit of sorts he continued, i tried temperring his flare by answering the questions that i could, but he still continued.  blaming me for a job's untimeliness or was it a job's plans that he didn't understand, or was it a something to deal with materials or..i don't know, nor did i really care at that point... all i knew was that i was being yelled at and i didn't even work on the project.  eventually, grudgingly i got his name and number and then hung up.  to be socially inept was one thing, but i am not one to take judgement and criticism for things that i am not responsible for.  i was vexed, no longer at peace, and that would linger for the rest of the night. 

in the end, i laid to rest a frightful day and resolved to forget about the whole thing.....but on occasion, stepping onto the cold morning floor, those flashes of the slug would come to mind, and the rest would follow.  along by caboose like a flock of goslings lined up behind their mother the memories linger and i am haunted..or hopefully no longer.

once you've conquered everest, only death defies you.... sir edmund hillary is dead.

late night babble:  is it fear that propels us to mediocrity or is it fear that brings us to greatness?  i wonder why the little things bother me so, when there are a great many things worth true concern and consideration.  worries that shouldn't even be a glancing thought often take up much of my time for self-reflection, and bind me to a place where my own self-deprecation becomes an enlarged tumor;  a cancer of insecurity in which i beat myself up.  to misstep is not a crime, only standing still to be bouldered over keeps the mind asleep and imprisoned.  two thousand eight has begun and taken strides to relinquish us of our youth.  i wonder if we as a people will idly watch the seconds creep in to our decaying effigies or will we truly be real and whole, alive to move and dance apart from the marionettes and zombies...

"i feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread" - bilbo

my folly this week has been the systematic fall of common sense and prudent judgement calls casting down into the shredded basin of dread and ineptitude.   in a billowing effect it's been one mistake after another.  i erased my music file folder from my downloading device, and in doing so somehow erased my "back-up" file..not stopping there, i then recycled the material removing it from the visible field of accessibility.  being of unsound mind, prior to this i failed to follow the simple rule of backing up my music files onto a different drive.  running microsoft's xp recovery system and ending up with a net result of buttcuss, i then took another step.  to retrieve the before mentioned folder, i downloaded a recovery system which pulls up erased and recycled files to make them whole again..of course with that said, if it all went as planned, this admission of stupidity would not be occurring as we speak and i would lack that much more content to write about.  needless to say problems arose.  inadvertently i downloaded the demo instead of the full version...the demo simply recovers about 200 kb of each file = worthless.  each mp3 file is much more than that.  after the recovery program completed its first sweep, i realized that i may have mistakenly went down the path towards the dark woods instead of the happy well lit meadow with the frolicking unaware and naked pre-smote adam and eve.....i should have realized something was amiss, as if one would awake days later aching in a prison cell without memory of past nights..more likely than not that someone was sodomized during his stay and is now repressing much of that horror..logically i should have stopped the error midstream, when i had that ill looming above..but i did not...i waited; i waited until the prompt said, "FINISHED"....then parting my clouded mind and coming through with a bit of clarity (dashed with a bit of woe), i then promptly downloaded the full version and ran the program once again.  to my dismay, after the process was done..the outcome was this: running the demo and acquiring approximately 2 seconds of each song left the rest of each file cut off and in amputated shambles - unrecoverable even with the appropriate recovery system. 

i now stand before you fetal like with hands between legs, less of what i was just days ago.  i've been castrated of ALL my music files.  sloooowwwwllly i stretch my arms up high to once again begin my attempt to ascend the jagged cliffs of musical wonder, from a place of dark and dreadful silence........the sound of silence...hmmm...simon and garfunkel?..nah....

reading:
the tragedy of pudd'nhead wilson - mark twain
santiago calatrava the complete works - alexander tzonig
underworld - don delillo
re-reading:
billy budd - herman melville
moby dick - herman melville

what's in a name?

there is talk of investigation, into the latest accusations that shakespeare is not actually the author of the works penned in his name.  most of the speculation revolves around the idea that shakespeare born of illiterate parents and in a provincial habitat could not have written of the complexities of law, math, and ancient history present in the plays in question.  further argued, with the backing of 300 or so online petitioners, authors usually draw on their own direct experience for the contents of their writings........i say..isn't it possible then to draw perspective from the surroundings?...perhaps even from the people who you keep company with?  i'm sure in london where he became the famous author that he is, there was more than enough inspiration and conversing to develop a consciousness of the environment.  the hustle and bustle of the city and its inhabitants could not have escaped his attention.  the skills of the populous around him also could not have been ignored, and thus could have been carried through to his stories.  so the question may be, is it fear that the often inconsequential populous should develop such a repertoire of creativity or fear from the inability for others to understand his mind and process?  of course traces of inconsistency and complexity can always be questioned and reputations of the famed, tarnished in conspiracy...taking the other side...if it is indeed a farce, and shakespeare did not author his plays...not even in ways of placing his own phrasing into the literature.....another thought: could shakespeare actually be a puppet; a figure plaything of others?  could his contemporaries have actually formed a social society (secret societies and groupings being of the rage and fashion of the elitists) and using shakespeare as the public face concocted a means of output?  collaborating, could the authors often attributed to his works (christopher marlowe, francis bacon, edward de verebe) in actuality be part of this brotherhood.....is shakespeare a walking talking marionette; a living penn name?   playing god through their own works, did they by their own design give birth to the "greatest bard of all time?"

...

the other day while perusing through some writings i came across the definition of jinni.  as accounted from the interpretation a jinni:  a spirit that according to muslim demonology inhabits the earth, assumes various forms and exercises supernatural power: genie  

often seen in many cultures, we can find a similarity of the prescribed.  if affected by greater numbers as perhaps multitudes of jinni; jinni as another species-unknown  perhaps they could have been the embodiment of the greek gods of olympus...and even straddling; walking the tight rope of sacrilege perhaps the hindu gods and christian god and the gods of all could have been part of a jinni populous......or.... in a monotheistic approach.....perhaps there is only one jinni...and that is god. ..could the jinni simply be an interpretation of god in another corporal form?  the greek gods actually being of one entity seen in different forms?  the gods of the vast religions be of the same omnipresence?