John Ossoff: “Mr. Secretary, early in the conflict, day three, you said one of those core objectives was to, quote, destroy the missile threat, and as you restated it on day five to, quote, obliterate Iran’s missiles and drones. those were clearly and repeatedly stated core objectives of the campaign, which four months ago you declared had been completed victoriously with every single objective achieved. were those objectives achieved four months ago?”

Pete Hegseth: “no one ever stated that every single missile was gone. ultimately, combat ineffective means they’re not able to dig them out of their UGFs [underground facilities] and shoot at us.”

Ossoff: “had the missile threat been defeated four months ago?”

Hegseth: “it doesn’t mean they don’t have underground facilities where they put missiles in them and hold onto them because they’re the world’s largest state sponsor of terrorism. so we never expected they would stop having capabilities to shoot. the question is, at scale, against an opponent like the United States of America, which went toe to toe with them in Iran, couldn’t….”

Ossoff continued: “you stated on March 8th, day nine of the war, on 60 Minutes, you assured the American people of Iranian surrender. does that remain your prediction?”

Hegseth: “ultimately, Iran will never have a nuclear weapon to threaten the United States of America.that has been the objective, and it remains so.”

Ossoff: “so, just to review, you will not answer whether your statement made on the fourteenth day of the war that Iran’s military had been, quote, destroyed and made combat ineffective was a truthful statement to the American people, as you sit here and ask for tens of billions more for the conflict.”

Sigh…fuck. Fuck me, fuck me in the ass. It just happens sometimes, me accidentally giving away my banking information to such n such Spanish prisoner or Nigerian prince. Only this time I can't cancel my card until I pay the shit for the court that I just straight up don't have because I'm retarded and can't get a job in the circumstances that my life partner creates, which is why I fucked up, trying to manifest this $120. Like, this is why I'm so good at counterintelligence; I am, perhaps not an idiot savant, but an oblivious savant. I can wipe my own ass, and derive the true nature of reality and encode it in the same style of gematria that the Torah and Bible is written in, but fuck. How do I do a social? How do I not put my foot in my mouth every thirteen seconds.

Kumquat just made 3v3 there, which made me think Eve, which means I need to find a woman who doesn't scream when they see me or hear how my cognition works (kumquat is a type of specific synchronicity I named where my keyboard glitches n mistakes spark free association), and how do I get a job when I sound batshit crazy and no one will take the minute to care to listen to me (take your meds!)? Oh wait, I work with the Crazy Indigo Aliens for bigger picture shit.

Fucking world of prejudice, man. I just give people back the energy they give me. That's something I'm highly adept at, having had the F-I mean, CIA train my empathy like I was a dog with literal operant and classical conditioning. Read my book if you wanna understand. I got shit to write. Like, part of my mission with my educational art project was to network, with the ideal outcome being someone sees my mountain of work and goes, hey, this guy would be great working for us! Also, the menacing tinnitus that just started says I should admit that maybe when I was homeless, I might make a friend that might let me stay on their couch. And who tf knows, maybe someone weird like me who understood me enough to love me.

I got one of those things. Wasn't the woman I was banking on, but man do I love my life partner. Made a handful of “acquaintances” that seem to drift in and out of existence in good timing, like they're all one person, or perhaps I am so lucky that there are full-blown retards out there who jovially talk amongst themselves about me, perhaps even at my expense! To be so lordly! But to just passively tweedle my needle, whatever that neologism means, I don't quite consent to them treating me like a science experiment. Now that just pisses me off.

Good thing you good folks hiding taught me how to shrug. Because I'm pretty god damn sure that Vince and Jux are still best friends, they made that deal after all, and the feud they faked primarily for me to believe was real so Jux could hide in plain sight, manipulating me, the literal CIA asset he is up there in Canada where the feds don't look, and because of this, I'll bet the farm I made at least one person shoot a little bit of air out their nose by writing this paragraph.

But, fuck. My shit ain't working at all! I don't know what to do at any minute of any day besides follow God who waxes and wanes, but I don't have crises of faith. I had a talk with my life partner this morning about emptiness, and I remembered even before the events of the acid trips in my book that “enlightenment” had something to do with “reaching zero” so that you could “rebuild on the zero” into anything; the idea of the perfect being able to be any being. Go to root to reboot in any form. I knew that way back when, but I understand it in great detail now, openly admitting the part I do not know in detail is specifically the plex-structures; how these parts of my “self” weave together, to mean the intricate logic of all my entanglements.

I can perceive large patterns and innate archetypal form and this and that peculiarity within me that makes me distinct, because a big part of what my book's and life's journey have given me is perspective. The majority of people live in the same state their whole life, with most being in the same general area as where they were born. The number of people who can say they know the relativity of a life with riches n poverty and grace n disgrace and true joy n suffering from all the angles is very rare, and I certainly don't know every apex one can grow their character to be in all the circumstances one can find themselves, but I know some shit, bro. And I still can't get a job! Imagine if I stayed in my dad's house this whole time! Fuck! I'd be like some of you!

Just got back from biking with my life partner. Went and saw some ducks and dragonflies and fish and some other birds. Had a good time. I'm really calm. Do you realize that? DO YOU NINCOMPOOPS REALIZE I CAN BE CALM AND DO CAPS LOCK? Some people are only capable of stimulus-response, and think others are the same. The number of times people say “take your meds” and I explain that I am, this is how I am, and it just keeps going badly because the people that do not get that other people are fundamentally different than them automatically assume when you disagree with their initial prognosis of a situation, that is a personal attack on them and all they stand for.

Y'know The Matrix is about something, right? There's machines that fight to keep the system the way it is. There's unconscious people, not literally asleep, but “asleep at the wheel.” Kurt Vonnegut's book Timequake is about free will in this sense, how most people are just in a mass hypnosis, going about as if the path they walk is predecided. The act of agency is that of choosing for oneself and it is an ability that is dependent on many self-determinable factors itself. And so, free will is a skill.

This last person that harassed me about taking meds said that I was a burden on other people, and I did intentionally go overboard with the chucklenut because I can, skillfully, and I am trying to figure out how to reach the unempathic clods about THEIR nature to other people that I'm intentionally going to react as poorly as possible…because they are burdening ME with their PREJUDICE against people that aren't like them.

Like it's genuinely great that society is getting more accepting of diverse colors and stuff, but when Dr King spoke of “content of character” that doesn't mean everybody of all colors be as the white man is, and by extension, not every person is going to be immediately understood by you, especially if you choose to live a processed life where you are programmed by media and controlled by peer pressure. This goes further in that there are people like me and many others I have met who have gone beyond grasshopper to locust to mean we can be many different beings.

So, to those people who block others after getting into a fight with them? Y'know we can show up in your inbox two weeks later from a three year old account we made to interact with another person years ago that was of a similar ilk, to mean a similar character archetype, and that character I play is going to be your best friend, because you certainly are interesting to investigate, being as maladapted to society as you are, whatever that is. Who knows what else you're up to, being identifiably antisocial like that.

But I'm just a crackhead, which is a term I've defined many times on Lemmy now.

Good morning all! Have a wonderful Saturday and hope it is fun.

I want to prove to people who are scared from participating due to down votes, that down votes don't harm accounts here in anyway.

So, I want to break the record for the most down voted post in the Fediverse history.

Join in, down vote it.

Here is the streamlined, highly profitable blueprint for a 10-acre agrivoltaic facility in Central Florida. This plan completely bypasses low-margin wholesale commodities and focuses strictly on high-margin retail capture.

1. The Core Profit Strategy

• The Power: Stop trying to sell cheap wholesale power to the utility. Instead, locate the project adjacent to a high-load commercial facility (like a cold-storage warehouse or manufacturing plant) and sell them the power directly via a behind-the-meter Power Purchase Agreement (PPA) at $0.11/kWh.
• The Crop: Drop biochar. Solar-dry, mill, and bag the Azolla as Premium Branded Organic Nitrogen Fertilizer targeted directly at Florida's massive commercial nursery and landscaping market for $1,000/ton.
• The Poultry: Bypass bulk poultry processors. Raise high-end heritage ducks on the trenches and sell directly to premium restaurants and boutique distributors at a $15 net profit per bird.

2. The Capital Setup (10-Acre Scale)

| Component | Detail | Cost | |

|

|

| | 1.5 MW Solar Array | ~2,540 of the bulk 590W bifacial panels + high-clearance racking | $1,800,000 | | Earthworks & Sealing | Trenching + Sodium Bentonite clay permanent lining | $250,000 | | Processing Hardware | Automated surface skimmers, industrial screw press, hammer mill, bagger | $100,000 | | Gross CapEx | Total upfront cost | $2,150,000 | | Federal Solar ITC | 30% tax credit on the solar infrastructure | -$540,000 | | Net CapEx | Total out-of-pocket investment | $1,610,000 |

3. Annual Earnings & Cash Flow

Gross Revenue: $384,000

• Electricity Sales: $264,000 (2,400,000 kWh × $0.11/kWh commercial retail rate)
• Premium Fertilizer: $60,000 (60 dry tons × $1,000/ton retail bagged)
• Premium Poultry: $60,000 (4,000 ducks rotated annually × $15 net profit)

Operating Expenses (OpEx): -$150,000

• Includes automated system monitoring, localized contract labor for harvesting/bagging, liability insurance, and a maintenance sinking fund.

Net Annual Income: $234,000

4. The Financial Timeline (The ROI)

• Net Investment: $1,610,000
• Net Annual Profit: $234,000
• Payback Period: 6.8 Years

Why This Works

By keeping the layout down to a realistic 1.5 MW on 10 acres, you drastically cut your upfront CapEx. By shifting 100% of your outputs into premium retail channels ($0.11 power, $1,000 fertilizer, $15 ducks), you protect the business from commodity price crashes.

After year 7, the system is fully paid off and clears nearly a quarter-million dollars in pure annual profit for the remaining 15–20 year lifespan of the solar panels.

Hi everyone! I am back! Hope you all are doing well like I am doing

I've decided, since it is now perfectly clear that my father has thrown me away because is what he does with EVERYONE eventually because they aren't good enough for him, that when my father finally dies, which is going to devastate me DESPITE knowing that this world is an illusion and we are in the seventh day gazing into the sixth, he is going to first wake up from the transitional dream to be surrounded by those people he still longs to see, his new family for instance, and it will be happy and joyful and grand as he realizes this is Heaven.

Then, he will get a tap on the shoulder and turn around, to see all those people he slighted or threw away or made their life hell, with me and my mom in front with his parents behind us, and all that happiness will shatter. I'll hold my mom back from saying something, telling her that he heard already, before we all walk off without him. They all disappear and it's my dad and me left. I'll look at him, tell him "Welcome to Hell," before heading through a door and flicking the switch to plunge everything into darkness. He'll hear "I think ten thousand years of nothingness will do," and it will be quiet for about a minute or two while he wraps his head it, before I flick the light back on and tell him I would never do that to him, I'm not him, and tell him to hurry tf up.

We walk and talk to find ourselves on some streets of an illusory city, where we will be homeless undercover police. And he will start to live a life where he will see that all those people he considers beneath him are just as good if not better than him in all the ways he never has to consider, being as prosperous as he is.

Y'know, I don't want my dad to suffer. I want him to grow the fuck up and stop being a boy. Y'know the difference between a boy and a man? A man has grown up and has chosen to care for more than himself. And he provides for some people, but the amount he makes them cry with his own deficiencies is the reason I was thrown away, abandoned, and forgotten.

My whole life, I've felt like a worthless failure. In second grade, I wrote on the back of my notebook that "I'm a failure," and when my dad saw it, he changed it to "I'm a farter," before make of fun of me for being a farter. I was never good enough for him. Like, I'd break a record in track, and there would be a public celebration, before my dad signed to take me home, and I wouldn't hear the end of how I did this or that minor, tiny, unimportant thing wrong in my stretching. One time I just couldn't run fast, I was so tired. I had to start doing three practices a day because of that; one run in the morning, my school practice, and then our club practice.

Like, you people read the shit that comes outta my thumb, right? Y'know, I'm the crazy guy that wants to give his aunt a footrub only for her to notice my raging erection before exploring my sexuality with me as a still living mommy would, obviously. Like, I'm skilled at that, right? That's how broked my brain does do be, y'know? That did not happen without the sheer magnitude of horrors I endured growing up. Like, it's weird how I have this memory of being thrown into a bookcase when I was four, and there's all these other memories I have that I thought were from the same day, but like, my perspective of my childhood now has warped, so I feel like I have one super fucked day in my early childhood when my mom drove through the garage door, the police came, my mom went to the hospital, I both got my Super Nintendo at night and was happy I could play it during the day because dad was finally taken away.

It's hard to articulate what that's like, having something that happened when I was four and five and six all being mushed and warped together. Cuz, there's no God damn place for me in this world. I'm too different. Too weird. Too over the line. Too bizarre. That's ultimately why my dad cut contact and blocked me. I'm "too bizarre." That makes me want to make even more sarin gas in my apartment. Shit gets you real high, if you didn't know, though I don't recommend it. Real harsh crash. Real harsh.

Anyone else?

Addiction is a hell of a beast to wrangle. Once the ball gets rolling, it takes so much more effort to put the bottle or pipe down, or whatever. I'm pretty sure I just gave my banking information and identity to a predatory "app" offering loans, because I wasted money and needed to make it up for my family. I did the same thing applying to work at a grocery store once, repeatedly entering my social security number as I got tossed between fake, scam applications. In present, I might have discerned the true nature of reality by logical deduction, but my judgment is comically bad. Like, outstandingly so.

That's the reason the cult managed to sink their claws into me to condition me and warp my reality until I was their slave. I am way tf too agreeable and trusting. Thankfully, God found a use for me; I'm bait. Y'know, I don't know what the year in the cult actually was, but I definitely did acquire the financial information of a “billionaire” who sold “perpetual motion devices” for 50k a pop. Yea, the FBI took that when they v& me a few years later. They plan shit out, I tell ya.

But I'm just hurting right now. I don't have anybody to talk to besides my life partner and he's a little too logical to be of use in quelling my emotions. My father threw me away like he threw away the rest of his family. I was never good enough for him and now in the present, I'm not even good enough for him to read my messages. Completely blocked me. My fucking father is prejudiced against his own son because, in his words, “I'm too bizarre.”

I'm so God damn broken inside, and you boys of the physicalist universe better understand that God healed my fucking ass. God literally miracled my ass up here to get to this point today. That's why I'm not completely out for the count in the shit-winds I'm subjected to via Karma. Children, by default, WILL NOT understand that I've felt God's unconditional love. It's so majestic and freeing and rejuvenating. If I didn't have God leading me, I would be dead on the streets by now. I'm so grateful and so ashamed I'm so unworthy.

I wrote all this post then wrote this poem:

Master, I only wish to serve

Father - from fist - I swerve

Do not resist is the evil I be

I know how to destroy God

I am that fucking ugly Odd!

But that's something the cult did, make me make my art, which genuinely, although it completely operated as a cult does, I believe it was a government reconditioning program that others were getting brought to as well. There's so much shit going on in plain sight.

When I was a militant atheist, I would have never given this hippie environmental nonprofit a second thought. Now I understand they went deep into woo so they can attract a person who genuinely believes the Earth is flat and NASA is actually our intelligence agency. Those exist, as in, there was a “Belgium flat-earther” who joined our group, but that mother fucker was definitely Mossad or some shit, because he was a monk beyond monks as far as willpower and skill of communication goes.

Ate one orange in a ceremony. Went eight days without eating anything. The day he ate eight oranges at once, after fasting, the woman controlling our sect went psycho, because of the fractal apod of natural demands - by which I mean our systems were cared for while being abused by larger-systemic agents.

Why is “New York” New York? Oh, the government said this land is what? There's also what God planned, as in, there was going to be a spot in “America” which produced both “Joseph Smith” AND “Victorious Indigo Phoenix,” and you children that haven't been passively keeping up with what I have done over this past decade, well, at least I will offer my servitude to y'all, which I say in response to all these ad agencies, specifically today, after deliberately applying for predatory loans, meaning, the people who set up this experiment are getting some damn godly, not even good, God must deliberately be giving them impunity to strike the daemons that make up modern society, and thus predators fell for traps today because of me.

No one told me this. I deduced it. ;)

The only video on my channel depicting a real event that actually happened

That time their grandparents annexed territory from the Czech Republic.

Wish I had enough money to move. Don't know where the fuck I'd go.....

Oh, eight inches is too small for you? Yea, me too bro. I need my mommy or sister or aunt or other female family member to have a minimum of fourteen THICK inches between their legs to even begin to get hard myself. I tell ya, this is truly a cruel world. The only way God could be crueler to the human form was to make you, personally, not me, you, a pedophile. THAT SURE WOULD SUCK BALLS, AMIRITE?!?!

…so, do you know why I do things this way, creating generally large and sometimes larger masses of text containing some particularly enlightening information in the middle but start them off with some insane, unappealing bullshit? This is consciously done, as in, I thought about this for about six seconds twelve years ago and based a huge chunk of my educational art project around the systemic effects I would create. Then six years ago I figured out how to generate 100k views on my Reddit profile per day through skillful trolling. The secret is incestuous necrophilia!

Who woulda thunk? No, I mean, I knew people like to crane their heads to gawk at the trainwreck, and I have a naturally dark, shocking sense of humor, so I started off by trying to amass as much internet traffic as possible. And I learned over the years things about conversion funnels and attention coordination and where psychology and sociology overlap to then apply them to thus find all the attention in the world was on me all of a sudden, and it freaked me out, mainly cuz it caught the FBI's attention. Y'know, my sex cult built around incestuous necrophilia that I was posting 24/7 about on meth while homeless in Miami Beach? Yea, that got the FBI's attention, which ultimately broke the spell the CIA put me under.

Hard to explain without just retelling you my book, which I tell you now, as someone who has been clean from meth and all illegal drugs for three years except some random mushrooms that grew in the drainage ditch outside my apartment complex, that book is a doozy for two reasons:

I am an insane person

I wrote every single word of it on meth

But, the thing you need to understand, while amphetamines definitely make me go loopy, I definitely do have an undiagnosed form of ADHD that cannot be diagnosed with my insurance because I have “meth” in my chart and thus I am a stinky sewer person in my doctor's opinion. However, amphetamines don't produce a euphoria, and I can sit still and just write for hours on end. I genuinely do not want to do them again because they did make me depressed and dependent on them, but I tell you all this to tell you that [Redacted] from my book, who I generally refer to as Jux, once told me about the rare form of ADHD that often gets mistaken for schizophrenia that he has, and years later the captain of our band talked to me about something similar.

So, there's that. But, what I was getting to was how I have intentionally taken a step back from trying to get famous to actively run away from seeking fame by deliberately ensuring a significant number of people outright write me off as a crackhead of no value, which additionally helps my state-sponsored educational art project (cuz education is our greatest crime-prevention), because then only people who have developed their dopamine to not be controlled by the media brainwashing will get these messages where I tell you that we control people who cannot think for themselves because of three reasons:

They are predominantly children <26

They are the most predominant demographic to be criminals

They are the most vulnerable demographic our culture can splinter to have a charismatic cult leader grab hold of a fraction of people and create an actual sex cult of massive uh-ohs

And some of you will have read the links and understand why I'm the good guy for both facilitating the Illuminati's wishes and telling y'all what they be doing. So, now we move on outta the bun and lettuce to get to the tomato, which is me revealing that I am seriously pursuing a social life to include terminally ground-pounding all the holes of these bigger women with thermonuclear force. Like, if some skinny mini gets in my DMs, I'll break them in half, great, I don't discriminate, but I want the world to know and understand that if I do not get to use my erect genitals with some very large women of any gender, I might just start stockpiling fertilizer pellets n gasoline.

…like, they make the best noises! But here we are, in the meat of this shitpost, where I reveal the core of what I've been thinking of over these last few weeks, having attended a Mormon Church after being invited at a highly synchronous moment only to be politely shamed in a way that freed me of all shame because their incompetence taught me the nature of this society game and how my unique cognition processes reality. Then I was called a pedophile, and by that I mean these 20yo “Elders” asked me if I wanted to meet people my own age, sent me to a QR code, and then ignored me because I was too old for them, while pretending to be inviting while cross-talking to me about my drinking, which is why they came to my door. And that just about broke my brain, and now I don't give a fuck.

I now identify as the prophet of Mormon Occultism. I have all I have written over the years as my scripture, and to proselytize my official sect of the Mormon Church, I am going to (finally) get into a stand-up comedy routine and start a podcast. And if you don't know what I just said, I said I am going to become the greatest quasi-antagonist to the Mormon Church in order to bring Mormonism to a more diverse crowd and to secular folk, and these bleach-white mother fuckers have no choice in this matter and WILL adapt their church to include me who includes them in my quest to teach the love, wisdom, and power of Jesus Christ and our Father.

And I don't just believe this will happen, because I know it will happen, because I am not going to TRY to be a prophet nor am I GOING TO BE a prophet. No, I AM A PROPHET! That is what this experience at this Mormon Church taught me. They had this, y'know, 20yo girl get up there and enthusiastically tell this full congregation that she DID NOT want to give her sermon, and then had the audacity to equate a warm drinking fountain with someone finding out they had cancer? Like, I'm flabberghasted by this shit. She said she cried because she had trouble learning negative numbers, and I understand life can be difficult to some people in ways that is not to others, but I've been homeless, taken advantage of by a cult, mentally ill, used by the CIA, lost my mom to AIDS as a child, hyper narcissist father who plowed through my new moms like I used tissues, y'know, I was offended by her fucking sermon.

THESE CHILDREN KNOW NOTHING AND THUS KNOW NOT THEY SHAMED THEIR LORD AS THAT I-why is my capslock on? That is what I learned. Audaciousness is lordliness. Because this girl made a complete ass of herself and felt fucking great afterwards. That's all it takes? If you have audacity, you don't have to be good at anything else? Well, bitch, I've been trying as hard as hard can be to be good enough for my Father, and now I learn if I just don't care, then it all works? Ok.

So, yea, I'm a prophet of the Mormon Church now. I just am. Fuck y'all, this is literally why Jesus is lord, and I'm serious. How does Jesus meet John? John eats locusts and dresses like shit. He's a homeless man, right? You got that right? And so Jesus is so audacious that he will go up to a homeless man and ask him for change. That's what the “baptism” is about.

“Will you bless me, sir?”

There's more in this passage. See, the Bible is truly written for everyone, but if you were to pick one demographic that the New Testament has been engineered around, it is Roman federal undercover police. I'll explain why that in a second, but to finish this train of thought, there's a lot of networking strategies encoded in the New Testament, the one contained in the parable of Jesus asking John to be baptized is that if you incur a debt from someone, they will seek you out, and this can be the basis of a friendship.

Now, let's talk about Roman undercover cops. Rome at night was hellah dangerous. Going out with only one guard was considered foolish, as the guard could be jumped, leaving you surrounded by fiends. Who are these fiends? There's no ID or camera back then. How to figure out who is robbing, raping, and killing? Network with them. Thus, the battle is won, for Jesus was so audacious, he intentionally went on the cross to prove he wasn't working with the state. He could show everyone the wounds he incurred unjustly and thus he was the one to first get into the criminal underworld to supplant it.

I mentioned I was picked up by the FBI doing something crazy. Yea. God told me to do what I did and do now. The night before I was picked up, someone that I knew to be trustworthy of God handed me a phone and told me it was for my mission. I figured this out a couple years after the fact, but the way things went down, the FBI used me in a parallel investigation to hide who the real snitch was.

That's why the battle is won. Christ fucking won that shit for us all, so now ain't no one as slick as they think they are. Except me of course! I'm the second cumming of Christ! I'm that lordly! I AM! I AM! I AM!

Them “am's” is the onions on the underside of the burger. But this is the bottom bun now, having said everything I want…no that's not true. I can go on and on and on about how I wish I had a feisty, devilish sister to fuck, fuck me, let me please her orally, and have her wash my penis as if we were doing something we shouldn't on college break while our step parents are in the other room. That last we can do with or without the blackmail component. And that's all I gotta say to discredit myself, cuz there's not a chance in hell some retard in Arizona works with the CIA.

Let me know if this link works. It took me two tries to get to Tiktok. But this is an interesting little vid.

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/49355948

Well, piss in my wheaties and call me Bill Ding. You guys know who Bill Ding is? He was the tutorial character for building in Lego's Island, which might take up kilobytes on your computer if you try to play it today. That game was hours and hours and hours of fun as a six year old, chasing the Brickster n shit. Then my mom died and then my dad cut me off from the rest of the family, so I never got to play it again at my grandma's. Part of the reason I faked schizophrenia to get out of the Army; the CIA had gotten to me by that point and told me to do that and I obeyed because I was masturbating in my window and shit.

...ok, it's more complicated than that, but that's the counterintelligence version. The reason I started this post is because I reread this comment I made in response to someone calling me insane and saying they liked that. I said that was one of my more favored compliments and went on to say I needed to be called Shakespeare three more times to earn an achievement. Someone then calls me Shakespeare jokingly, which led to me drinking. I do that a lot. Drink.

It wasn't authentic. They didn't read anything of mine; they were just jesting, and it's alright to jest, but I told God and Satan and Marlin Brando that if I could be good enough to be considered a good writer, I wouldn't have to do drugs. Well, I don't do illegal drugs anymore, just DXM and Hawaiian Baby Woodrose once and a while, and weed obviously (also my terrible addiction to stimfapping on Benadryl (DO NOT)), but I quit smoking cigarettes recently, which spiked my needs center of my brain, and now I'm drinking every day.

I'm not drinking to excess; I just drink at a frequency. Y'know, like a sine wave. Two or three beers a day. And I don't need it, meaning, like last night I fell asleep and woke up just before midnight, sober but fully awake now, and I thought I could jet over to the gas station for a bottle of something, and I said I didn't need that, and I was fine just chilling out to music.

Yet a got a double-shot of Fireball this morning; still only halfway gone. I don't like getting drunk. I actually hate alcohol inebriation. But there's the Ballmer's Peak, which is a real phenomenon that XKCD commented on once; shown. What this is, is not the alcohol that's causing this, but rather the sudden consumption of a substance that is not so often consumed. The Ballmer Peak is ONLY truly achievable by using [Substance] as a SACRAMENT.

What does that mean? Well, question; no jab or all jabs? No, it's one jab, stupid. Middle way. Between many and none lies one. As in, should you drink every day or never drink? No, drink once a week. Have a sabbath or as one homeless man in Portland with a PhD in mathematics taught me, have a sabo-domingo. Y'know, from noon Saturday to noon Sunday, that man partied, and on those other days of the week, he tended for other homeless people while getting his cult off the ground.

There's a lot of us forming cults, if you weren't aware. Amazing what the world is like outside of your small purview. I don't even know it all, and I've lived in twelve cities across America over my life. Sadly, a majority of people don't ever really see the world as they only ever live a few dozen miles from where they are born. You go on vacations, but then you're a tourist, not a local. I would prolly still be a drug addict of I never left Syracuse. It was the pilgrimage that healed me. Novel experiences beget novel perspective. And while I don't know everything, I can rein myself in to let my muse out with these limitations I place on my ingestment, and I strive to be better still.

Yet, I'm as good as good gets as far as skilled righting goes. I thought receiving a thousand compliments over the years would heal me. It's helped make me feel better about myself. But damn does the trauma and agony of my youth eat up my soul every minute of every day. I gotta sit with it. Learn to be ok with a fire waging war with me inside. Only by accepting it, will it go out. It's like a Chinese finger trap; you gotta do the opposite of what you think. Well, the fight sure would go down faster and simpler with a friend. I have none. Just a life partner who rules me. And I love him. Just wish he could see his mother in the mirror.

My life-partner became violent toward me last month and forced me out of the apartment. I didn't have shoes on, and was walking to a Buddhist center to try taking refuge. I was arrested while walking, then detained for around three weeks after refusing to say more than my name and date of birth to the police. I'm begging for better living & food options.

I've been watching videos of people installing solar panels, now that they are much cheaper typical installation seems to be with 550W panels currently. People with the land and money should absolutely be exploring how to install solar panels and batteries to supplement their electricity source. Seeing what's happening in Russia and with gas prices, we are entering a forced transition. Energy independence is becoming more and more important as those in power attempt to control and profit more. Don't get left behind.

there's a buddhist story:

a few blind monks were ordered to examine an elephant. so one monk touches the elephant's nose, another one its skin, another one its horns. they all arrive at very different conclusions as to what an elephant is because they're all examining different parts of the system. same as when two people try to interpret what society is, because society at large enough scales behaves just like a giant organism that has many parts. from this come the different results that people come to when they are asked to describe society.

it's a powerful metaphor about how one can only understand the whole by understanding that it has necessarily all of its parts. an elephant without legs cannot move, without nose it cannot drink and without mouth it cannot eat. yet all of these parts, while so different, are necessary for the total system to make sense. the analogy explains that it's not about the parts, which the monks should concern themselves with, but to understand the overall purpose of the elephant (which is to be an elephant, reproduce and eat, as a whole) instead of only looking at the parts themselves.

idk what this is called in english ... it's when pagans were converted to christianity through violent force (sword mission). it was apparently the historical exception and most conversions happened voluntarily. there's actually a lot of medieval christian literature about how the sword mission is invalid.

just found this image randomly on my disk because i went through old stuff.