Knowing is spiritual, Judging is hurtful

America was founded on the ideal of polite domination.

You may own a slave, but you must act upset that they decided to become a slave.

The idea is that whoever has the most power, also has the most guilt.

And it works.

We all know what guilt is and who is the most guilty, is there an ethical way of interacting with them?

Trance is the new Folk

It consists of:
Repetition
Sounds and melodies designed to appeal to a wide audience
Catchy themes
Nothing to object to
Repetition

Science fiction

In Stranger in a Strange Land, a single human has a Utopian ideal and shares it then becomes an martyr.

In Brave New World, a single human has an insane ideal of introducing guilt into a society that has taken on the ideal of Stranger in a Strange Land, then becomes an, well, it was bound to happen, he was too stupid to survive on his own, it was a merciful death.

And now for something completely different.

The Man is all about The Man

The Man has a secret admirer.

I can't remember if I posted the comic on here, but some of it is also here.

This is probably slowly

You are now communicating manually
Per special request
Then I went to the donkey show, my reaction distilled below
What?

Bandana

Bah humbug is an enlightened greeting of the season.

It expresses distaste at wasteful human endeavor in the pursuit of a happiness that many only be felt when one breakfast the hamster wheel of life and steps off.

Those who laugh most feel deepest.

Aware of my imperfections and pleased by them.

Laughing at the awful world.

Each unique twisting from a perfect form meaning more to me with each day and become even more as i become ever less.

Jesus loves the clock

The darkness has returned to the charming section of the surroundings.
This is when the best things that I do happen.
I am not stimulated in an uncomfortable fashion; the world breathes softly.

There are many conscious and active, moving about readily producing and consuming.
Fear of the unknown inhibits consumption and production.
Closing and opening are vices that no establishment may afford, yet many do.

Without a clock, how do you know it is time to fall asleep?
Without an alarm, how do you know it is time to awaken?
Without pain, how do you know it is time to live?


I hope the lady who invented standardized measurement of time is still recieving royalties.

Loving?

There is nothing camp about pink

Esther may still love geeks

Invert your ego to find your id

We construct and understand the universe as we do our own lives. Through stories with beginnings and endings we creating an understanding of emotion, creation, achievement and come to terms with the insignificance of our immortality.

Presumed universal mortality is akin to the first cell recieving an apoptosis signal. We often forget our place amongst the stars, but the stars are indifferent to our action.

The universe, as ourselves, exists as a multidimensional thread; it has a beginning and an ending, but these points are defined by points existing without.

Nothingness defines dimension. The first dimension implies a second, and the two imply a third, so do the four dimensions that make up the bulk of human awareness imply a fifth, existing within the scope of human sensation, but as hard to hear as silence.

Keypad Memories

Environmental interaction is an important aspect of the ability of an organism to survive.

Humans have an especially strong impact on their environment.

They collect items, build objects and complicated living systems and congregate in numbers beyond that which an area may support.

These activities can take the form of ritual where a human alters their environment in response to a memorable event.

If a human is to be manipulated into altering their environment toward the goal of continued existence outside of the scope of the life of an individual it will be necessary to cause memorable events to occur that cause an equation of local environmental death or decay with ones own demise.

At the point at which environmental damage is seen as damage of the self, environmental damage will be arrested or oblivion embraced.

Environmental damage will therefore progress until it becomes cleaved to the human psyche.

This level of awareness will include a novel feedback loop, by which a human will feel alterations to their environment as an alteration of the self.

Such a sense will only be viable in a single generation selection event.

Humans will walk to the brink of extinction on this planet, beyond which the future is vague.

Gritty realism doesn't make gruel taste any better

I was born with fingerprints; I don't need to pay to be distinct.

Come have a chat with me in my fireplace

The past is solid, the present the sorting of experience, the future possible.

Boredom implies sensation as of lesser significance than abstraction.

Lack of stimulation is not the issue in boredom, rather lack of dynamically patterned stimuli.

Imagination is a way of controlling boredom. It is highly regarded.

Life requires life to observe.

America

I adored my cousin.

Now she is dead.

So it goes.

We make soap.

Journey past homeostasis.
Where obtuse and acute reflect.
Further than human thought.
Fast as beading sweat.

Clouds part revealing light.
Every signal seems a call.
Feel the pulsing movement.
This is the human animal.

The tastes confuse the eye,
and smells the mouth and nose.
Every sense is senseless,
and every stance a pose.

Severed or alone?
Without bounds or free?
Dead or merely sleeping?
Fear or mystery?

Breathless still and dull,
you are a little late.
Atop the second highest rock,
I sit and meditate.

Well...

Yesterday was not so good a day.

Maybe today will be better.



children for sad pictures

Strong moral compass interferes with ability to party

My predictions for future olympic games:

2012: London - A dragon eats all the swiss press.
2016: Mexico City - might as well, the entire world is a desert now.
2020: France - Any team that reaches France is considered a winner, all others are zombie food.
2024: Neo Beijing - No torch run, no Tibet, no events, no watching, no talking about it.
2028: Bendigo - they just wanted it more
2032: Evil Tokyo - race to gain access to the last nuclear device on earth.
2036: Hershey, PA - time machine event opened allowing athletes to interfere with the past to alter the outcomes of other games
2000 - time paradox

END OF LINE

I want to lie but the truth will set you free

We must look with eyes that cannot see
To reveal the universal mystery.
The murkiest sense is the most clear
The truth is; it is all right here.

I guess I did finish it subconsciously.

I didn't realize until after I typed the damn thing.


Writing that sparks memories I did not know I had

Octo Deca Tex Mex

When I see something I do not like, I smile.
I see further than the discomfort it may cause.
The universe is heavily focused on its style.
It spends all entropy on working out its flaws.

How it appears between here and there.
Where it seems to be flowing and why.
Into a place objectively fair.
Where we shed our bonds and fly.



I will not finish writing this because I am going to have a conversation about sex while wearing a straight jacket.

Now give her something to read about

A hairy lightning bolt strikes me, it is her.

Using every viable agency against me.

All to naught; uncompromising persistence wins out again.

I pause and stroke her head, her body twists a little in my hands but she looks passive.

You will never defeat me she seems to think.

I chuckle; I certainly hope not, that would spoil all my fun.

Hooch

A human environment is distinct from the human itself. However an environment can be conceptualized as a tool in a similar way to something more mundane like a rock or keyboard.

How a human wields their environment defines a person; rarely does anyone wish to involve themselves in the waste that they create.

How much did the human hand change to fit the hammer and how far did the hammer change to fit the human hand?

Do a falsificationism, stick it in her popper

Incommensurability of paradigm and positivism: contrary solutions to alternate problems.

Normal science as put forward by Thomas Kuhn relates to the problem solving work that goes on within a paradigm. This stands in contrast with the view put forward by Karl Popper and the Vienna circle which views science as a singular entity and all scientific work as a part of a singular uniform structure in which all scientists share certain traits in their method. I think these two commentaries are not incommensurable, but rather that one lemma must exist as a subset of another in order to form a more vivid understanding of the nature of scientific research and the underlying social structures that govern it. My intent in writing this paper is to explore a possible means of allying the two theories, the implications that doing so would cause and why Kuhn's avoidance of using his own ideas reflexively has made this necessary.

Scientific positivism suggests that through axioms, work in science can be verified and cross connected toward a better understanding or perhaps a total understanding of the universe. This view is steeped in scientific realism which lends to the casual listener a mythos of absolutely knowledge being something attainable. However science is self reflexive and as such must be subjected to the study of itself. The work of Karl Gödel on incompleteness when combined with Karl Popper's work on positivism implies that science will take on a stronger and stronger self reflexive stance, never reaching a fully developed or mature stage at which further inquiry will no longer be welcome or useful. Here Kuhn's work on paradigm comes into its own, describing the process by which science may continually rebuild and improve upon itself. This of course means that there is no end stage to science as a process (GEB 1979).

Popper forms a distinction between the scientist, the research and the meme rich context which they use to communicate their ideas. The idea here is that there is room between the scientist's interpretation of the research and the paradigm. Kuhn agrees so far. The splitting point is that while Popper thinks that scientist's act as individual revolutionary units, each capable of enacting change on a paradigm gradually through their work, Kuhn suggests that there are some unhappy few that are indoctrinated into a certain discipline and will alter their perspective to protect their interests (Diez 2007). However unfavorable a view Kuhn puts forward, that alone is not reason enough to dismiss it. Instead the work itself must be addressed; if the research points one way and the scientist publishes contrary conclusions to the research they will be shown to be wrong, either in the short term or the long term. On a long enough time line all invalid conclusions from valid results will be discovered and refuted.

Kuhnian normal science seems separate from the people that practice it, both on a psychological level and a sociological level. It appears although Kuhn concerned himself strongly with the act of problem solving rather than its applications. The same is true not only of the science Kuhn describes, but of Kuhn's own work. This internal consistency seems to have surprised Kuhn; as when his work caused what he would call a revolution, he found himself as a primary commentator on an event he seemingly had caused. The issue here is of his idea of an incommensurable paradigm, which is solved by suggesting that the new paradigm does not exist as a separate entity to the old one but rather builds on its foundations (Diez 2007). Revolutions are areas in which an idea is examined and reapplied, as such the same language used in the old paradigm now takes on an entirely different meaning (Demir 1995). As such scientific work may easily be applied cross paradigm, but its meaning may be altered entirely and may no longer be valid within the new. Here was the issue of commensurability; how could it be possible that the same piece of work was both valid in one paradigm and invalid in another?

Work is validated by ones peers using the language of a paradigm to describe ideas and later refine them into axioms. There is nothing about a paradigm shift that will certainly invalidate an axiom unless the ideas within are directly challenged or redefined by the new paradigm. This means that language and ideas of axioms that will remain valid in a new paradigm must be maintained and updated to fit the new paradigm during the revolution stage. By following this ideal researchers will choose the paradigm that suits their work rather than the work that suits their paradigm. This will ensure that shifts in paradigm and progress in science are based on evidence rather than reactionary, and restricted only by scientific skepticism instead of personal interest.

I am reminded, when reading of Kuhn's endeavors into understanding Aristotelian physics in its own paradigm, of Diogenes the Cynic. The story goes that Diogenes used to walk the streets carrying a lit lantern in search of an honest man. Such a search, as with Kuhn's was fruitless but served a purpose; to illustrate its own lack of merit. I however am not the cynic and believe that both Diogenes and Kuhn actually sought what they claimed to; though their methodology reduced their chances for success their searching proves their motive. Since Kuhn was looking for commensurability between ancient and modern paradigms he found it, though he did not know how to see it due to the paradigm he had decided to work under. This reinforces the point that the evidence must determine the paradigm rather than vice versa.

Kuhnian normal science and revolutionary science must therefore be both the identical and different simultaneously. Furthermore this means that incommensurability between paradigms must solely be determined by the evidence; semantic value of a study has no merit in and of itself. From this we see the idea of a normal scientist as a creature in an eigenstate; both supporting a paradigm and undermining it using the same research. The use of a paradigm however slots perfectly into Popper's ideas of science, but the paradigm in this context must now apply not to all scientists or even all scientists in a certain field, rather the smallest possible unit of research; the scientist.


Bibliography:

Callinicos, Alex. Postmodernism as Normal Science. The British Journal of Sociology, Vol. 46, No. 4 (Dec. 1995) 734-739

Demir, Ipek. Incommensurabilities in the work of Thomas Kuhn. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science, Vol 39. (2008) 133–142

Diez, Jose. Falsificationism and the structure of theories: the Popper–Kuhn controversy about the rationality of normal science. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science, Vol. 38 (2007) 543–554

Hofstadter, Douglas R. (1979). Gödel, Escher, Bach. Basic Books ISBN 0465026567.

Sismondo, Sergio. (2004). An Introduction to Science and Technology Studies. Blackwell Publishing. ISBN 9780631234449



This is a wall of text.



It has a note on it reading: 'no unjustified belief allowed'

It is highly unlikely that my body will be found with the mind intact

space is all around you
look for it a
and you may finally see it
though it has been there since before you were born
in opening ones eyes for the first time
one may be shocked by their ability to see
but fear, fear is a means of seeing things clearly in order to survive
long ago we left aside the fight or flight response
there is yet another option for humans
a different path
inquiries



It really does

Empowering statements can also be taken as admissions of defeat.

Space is full of potential.

You have got your energy in my space.

You have got your space in my energy.

I feel sad enough to weep.

Cantonese version of titanic theme is not helping.



"A little learning is a dangerous thing; drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: there shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again."
- Alexander Pope

There is a meta post within this post

When I see a moth punge into the flame I think it knows what its existence means and is making the conscious choice to help express to other beings that life is about burning.



Meta commentary on my internet dealings.

Folk been saying to me that when I make a post. 'wow, that is just like what the post was originally about in your head when you wrote it'

That makes me feel good.

I like it when you probe me

Welcome space beings
Get comfortable
I'm here to make you feel at home

How was your trip?
I love to travel
Why don't you take me home?

We've gone too far
Around the world
To ever get back home

I hope you know
How I like eggs
Kept warm and dry at home

Do it now
The future is a lie
Probe me all the way home



Written on a really nice notebook, thanks Micaela

Cross Kingdom Shared Proteomic Development of Fungal Networks via Hyphae and its Implications Regarding Genetic Drift, Expression in a Diffuse Network

A symbiote and host develop similar proteomes as their source of food is identical.
If fungi is treated as a single organism communicating genetic change via hyphae rather than a sexually reproducing population.

The result is a shared genetic base in which only a few scant biochemical pathways deal with the basics of life.

This implies that rather than a single abiogenetic event, the truth of the origins of our conserved genome may in fact be masked by rewriting.

In short, there is no way of telling what our evolutionary ancestors were besides at the most immediate level.

Yelling at a internet

When you talk to the Internet, who do you imagine you are addressing?

I try to remove the ideas of a person from the person themselves, as such I find Internet discussion is kinda like shouting at a mirror.

Clango and his kitten exemplify this well.



But what does the Internet look like?

Is this a selective collective unconscious or just a crashing of ego with anonymity as an irrelevant side show?

A new mania afflicting the population

Observations coupled with predictions may seem like a fun game, but these quickly lead to general theories: Talk to your children about science before it is too late.



This fiend created a model of atoms involving witchcraft and virgin sacrifice.

Waves

When I think about the boundary of what is known, I think of waves of fractals breaking against the shore of consciousness.



Look closely enough at the edge and you'll find yourself in the middle.

how free i was

there are many people in the world
if you find a common thread
something that holds many or all together
that bonds them
via similarity
you can communicate with them
if you find the right words
you can change their minds
tell them to do what interests them
but alter their interests
so they become malleable
with a strong enough word to enough people
anything can be made possible



have you ever said something to someone
and saw the white ball hit the black
into the corner pocket?

My cat is beautiful; she is sitting on my lap cleaning herself

The only thing you can do for me.
Is the only thing you can do for yourself.
Trust ten thousand things to act
To know what it means to act and do so
"When your own heart asks."

Citizen Kane

Down the list is sin, which is highly enjoyable.

look don't touch
touch don't taste
taste don't tell
tell don't show
show don't look

Up the list is Righteousness, which is unpleasant.


Grandma knows the score.

Lego

You could build anything you liked because you had all the pieces that were just simple blocks.

But you put them together and made something complicated.

Building it was a lot of fun.

Figuring out how you wanted it

But then once you built it

You didn't have enough blocks left to build something else

So you either had to enjoy something you build

and that was it

or destroy it to build something new and have more fun

I think the same may be true with people

In order to have a relationship with someone for as long as you want, you have to sometimes destroy elements of it and rebuild them, if only so that you are still experiencing the fun of building

The best way to enjoy it is to ignore the rules, it won't look like what was on the box, but you'll enjoy it because it is unique and yours.

Coming to a plughole near you

This is the greatest country in the world

This is the greatest country in the world

This is the greatest country in the world

And I love you

Because

This is the greatest country in the world

The boundless freedom of my heart in love requires walls
Wrap a flag around your brain; your naked intellect appalls

Free talk can turn free minds, from ignorance to hate
So stop your free thinking mind before it is too late

I do not want a mindless slave, obedient to me
I want a mindless slave to the land of liberty



I can't believe I took this picture

Fungal bounty: using adaptation models of fungi towards a specific antibiotic solution.

Introduction:

All forms of life on this planet are highly adaptive given a significant selective pressure and adequate resources. Symbiosis in most literature is taken as fact; the fields of environment studies and ecology deal solely with interspecies relationships that create a unique means of survival for both, each species creates a niche in an environment and fills another created by a complimenting species.

Fungi are a highly specialised kingdom. With very low food requirements, a high resilience to disease, a short reproductive cycle that is easily manipulated and a range of secondary metabolites as a means of interacting with their environment, fungi are high desirable as a niche creating group to humans.

Fungi and humans share a common pathogenic species that lives in symbiosis with us both; bacteria. Interestingly, many of the same bacteria that cause disease or death in humans do the same in fungi. This has led to a harvesting of fungi for the antibacterial secondary metabolites they produce. This is a widely accepted practice, but lacks a key strength; adaptability.

In the Ukraine bacteriophage are harvested from hospital drainage systems and stored in libraries. They are used as antibiotics in hospitals, where they actively feed on the bacteria that grows there. This premise is proved to work, though there are many reservations about its widespread use in other countries.

Given fungi's ability to reproduce quickly and spread DNA among a colony, a full colony adaptation to a pathogen can occur in as little as one generation. If this increased efficacy of pathogenic resistance could be first acquired in fungi, then passed to humans through secondary metabolite harvesting the results could be a fungal panacea; its secondary metabolites able to kill any bacteria its colony previously had contacted.

Given a bacterial library, an environment tailored for efficient fungal propagation and later stringent testing of the metabolic content of the resistant fungi produced, the results could mean a new form of antibiotic farming, where a cure is not searched for, but rather asked for with an offering of the offending pathogen.

Aim: Test the ability of fungi to adapt to various human pathogens native to Victoria.

Method:

The fungi used will vary based on adaptability of varying species.

A range of varying bacteria are harvested from culture.

Inoculations of bacterial colonies in suspension are prepared and added to the fungal food source at a stage of fungal development prior to sporing.

A subsequent test will be done on the f1 generation, with a tenfold increase in bacterial exposure. The results will be monitored closely and if pathogenesis is notably marked, a further tenfold increase will be used to inoculate the f2 generation, this will continue until there is no noted pathogenesis after exposure to the bacterium of interest.

Subsequent studies will be designed to encourage breeding between bacteria resistant fungi to optimise the spread of resistance genes.



//I'll mostly add methodology as I find what works best, and results when they become available.

Then discuss and get peer reviewed by farmer Dan.

A G Major Girl

I'm pretty comfortable, standing with my feed a shoulder's width apart, my knees slightly bent, my saxophone in my mouth and my fingers ready. I look up to the horizon, closing my eyes and starting to play.

The expression, forms ideas, words, then sound, I feel myself letting everything listen hear how I feel; what is going on in my head. I don't mind if anything is listening, I'm used to talking to myself to improve what I say to others.

I listen to what I'm saying, It's a happy and peaceful sound, one content with life, with a full belly and a clear head. Everything is soft and easy, mellow in meaning and content.

A blue chord change occurs, I'm doing a few simple scales, thinking about contact. Missing a certain feeling, unsure whether I'd ever felt it but sure I was missing it. The song gets jerky and confusing, then wildly spirals up two octaves in fifths.

I open my eyes and see a movement, I finish on a fifth, leaving the note hanging for a second then pulling my mouth off the piece and looking to see who is there.

What a wonderful person! They want me to keep playing. I'm happy to be sharing my love of music and I feel like playing something a bit happier now.

Koinobiont Ectoparasitoid

Une fois, une seule, aimable et douce femme,
À mon bras votre bras poli
S'appuya (sur le fond ténébreux de mon âme
Ce souvenir n'est point pâli)
- Charles Baudelaire


There is a pulse and a hunger.

I am alive, whatever that means.

The smell of the rot has become an interesting sensation.

Hunger is always present, though I don't have a stomach I am now conscious that if I had nerves connecting to it they would be telling me to feed.

I could use a steak, though at this point i'd probably eat lard. Whenever I feel a bit less hungry I guess I am feeding. It is like an orgasm. I have never been so aware of how close survival and sex are, or how nice they both feel. There are countless others here, though I can't say much to them. This unity experience is addictive; talking to only one entity doesn't cut it.

Humans are a visual species.

This taste and smell thing is somewhat new to me, I keep trying to tell my eyes to open or my body to feel. Something replies every time.

'No, not that, that isn't there.'

I'm not giving up though, my entire existence was mapped out by my eyes, losing my sight means losing a part of who I am.

'You don't need that anymore, let go, let go.'

I'm not listening.

I figure I could connect this smell to my eyes and see what is going on, it works pretty well and soon I have a rough idea of my environment. The subtle differences of smell relate to differing consciousnesses. I color code them. I have a better sense of where I end now and almost feel able to move and give myself form. When I really flex against my limits there is a sense of dismay felt around me. The rot is not happy with my independence. I feel myself pressed from all sides; compacted.

My mind is filled with images of desolation, despair, destruction, digestion, disharmony. Nothing new there, but the feeling is so much stronger than any I have felt before. I'm tempted to form a shell around myself to ward off this feeling. But resist the temptation, a wall is just as good at keeping things in as keeping things out. Instead I think desperately of thoughts that bring my peace. My first love, soft fluffy animals, fresh air, cool water, warm sun.

Feed! is shouted back in reply, my images are acceptable as things to consume, but that is not my meaning.

I go to my memory palace, a place of my own will. I retreat there, aware I am still being observed.

Things are as I left them. Five tribes fight endlessly over one side of a disc. The other side is my garden. I go there. Soft mossy grass grows across it, covering the wide expanse as far as I wish it to. This is my sanctuary, my deepest, most safe place.

'Yes, good!' comes a voice.

'Grow!'

'Feed!'

'Spread!'

'Survive!'

I am at odds with this voice. It isn't covering every part of being alive. I think of diversity, of chaos, of the difference that makes life both possible and worth living.

I feel the rot recoil in horror. It is considering my commentary. I push and feel litter resistance. Around me the rot falls away. Its smells are a bouquet of difference, I discern more colors than I have ever tasted before. All moving independently with no purpose but to live. The hunger and growth cycle is over. The rot will survive, but not as the rot.

The rot has consumed all things, all things are in the rot.

The rot is dead, long live the rot.

Phagotypical behavior

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
- William Blake


You're absolutely right officer, I was irresponsible and down-right immoral to disobey the order to evacuate. After all, the law exists to protect the interests of all that follow it, breaking it is an act of sedition or even treason.

The pig looks uncomfortable with my oratory, he has another five hundred or so houses to check in town before he can evac himself.

The unknown scares authority more. I remind myself this is a man in a uniform, excited by the ideals of brotherhood and protecting the state. I don't hate him for being a tool of repression of my freedom, but I certainly don't respect him for it.

I'll be on the next bus out, don't worry about it. Except I won't. I don't want him to worry about me. He wouldn't if it wasn't something he was paid to do.

The firetruck is the last thing out, cruising out at dusk, sirens blaring. Giving the town a last fanfare. I sure hope I don't light too many fires while they are gone. I grin, walking across the street in the lengthening shadows to the library to return a book.

The people left, abandoning everything they couldn't carry with them. Odd I thought, that I, the one with nothing here would stay.

The town seemed drier and older the morning after the people left. although their lives had somehow animated the wood and stone.

The next morning the first train arrived. Nobody was around to open the gate to the sheds at the end of the line. I watched from a rooftop that day as train after train crashed into the bollards.

There were no drivers, most were old freight trains, I wondered what the cargo was, making a note to check later that day.

The local store yielded a carbonated soda that promised I could win instantly by buying a bottle. I decided just to steal it instead since the novelty of money and working a cash register had worn off many years before. I chuckled as I looked under the cap. I was a winner! now to send my details somewhere and in six to eight weeks a hat with a logo on it would be mine.

The train station was a mess, derailed trains lying on their sides, some with their engines still running. It smelled pretty bad, I guessed the stench was coming from the trains. I tossed my drink bottle in a bin, wondered if anyone would ever clear it out, shrugged and wandered on, searching for an open carriage. There were biohazard signs on the closed ones and given the smell, I didn't want to find out what was in them that strongly.

I heard a rumbling that sounded like a 24 carriage train approaching at full speed.

I moved away from the tracks. A few minutes later the train came crashing into another bollard and derailed, its engine on its side, wheels still spinning. The contents of its open carriage spilled off. The smell was rancid, but the sight was worse. Hundreds of dead bodies lying in the dust before me. I spotted some humans, the clothing gave them away.

Past a certain point of decomposition all meat looks the same.

Looks like I was wrong, the train only had 23 carriages. Silly me, I giggled at the thought of guessing the number of carriages by listening to the sound a train made and wandered away.

If every train was full of rot, I thought while walking to the nursery, a forest would have all the food it needed. It rains pretty regularly here and never gets too cold. Trees were nice, but thinking about it I couldn't really get inspired by chloroplasts.

With time they'll seed themselves anyway.

I have no place helping life.

Independence of an organism is central to its adaptability and survival.

I wonder what independent organism broke the symbiotic cease fire and killed so many meatlings. The sprinkler system came on, watering the ferns I was watching. I moved out into the sun to dry myself.

I like cacti, they have a certain resolute attitude in the face of diversity, opting out of plenty to find their own niche.

My cactus is growing happily on the roof, well, sitting there. It must be saving its energy for later. But it certainly seems happy. I burnt down the church last night. Nothing against religion, just hated to see it go unused. Pity we don't have a mosque or synagogue here, I don't want to discriminate. Plus it was fun to watch a symbol of childhood repression go up in flames.

The hardware store has paint, this town is going to become pretty.

One building side in, I get tired of the old up and down motion and start throwing paint to speed things up. It gives things a much more chaotic feel.

I like that.

I went back to the nursery. Everything was dead. The water was helping wash away what was left of the ferns. I took another cacti, but I didn't get the feeling it was happy so I dropped it.

A building fell down today. I heard the sound, not sure why it did but i'm glad I wasn't in it. Might sleep outside all the same. The ground is looking more and more nasty. Can't say I would dig sleeping on it.

Asphalt and concrete, full of delicious sugar, if you look on the right day at a fresh laid piece you'll see hundreds of butterflies sitting on it feeding. I wonder if they ever get stuck, kinda like in amber.

The town smells awful this morning, more buildings fell down during the night. I slept through it apparently. Food has lost its appeal to me. This stink is enough to drive someone mad. But who? I giggle, I love me; I really crack me up sometimes.

One more day, I choke down a grain and honey snack with water. One more day without fresh air and i'm out of here. People at least don't smell this way.

I had some awful dreams last night, death, decay, a hideous pulse of hunger. I haven't been eating well recently. I pack some snack food and water into a bag and think about the best way out. The smell makes it hard. It is cloying and surrounding, breathing is difficult. I grab a toothbrush and paste off a shelf and brush my teeth, then throw them in the bag. Minty freshness doesn't seem as pleasant with this stench in contrast.

The road is cracked and some odd black goo is bubbling up through it. I start walking, scraping it off my shoes on the kerb.

Then I think, this isn't right, I can't just walk away. I crack a huge smile and break into a run.

By the time I hit the edge of town I've vomited a few times. Highly enjoyable. A building collapsed behind me, sending out a plume of dust and spurring me on.

The black stuff is everywhere in pools out here and smells like rot. When I have to cross it, it is like walking through a bog. The rot doesn't feel like there is any dirt in it though. It all seems alive. It is weird to stand knee deep in an organism.

I start wading quickly through it and get to solid ground. As I catch my breath I hear a rumble and the solid ground starts to become less so.

I am running wildly now, the ground behind me falling away and being swamped by the rot at a disgusting rate. The only thing going through my head is how much I want to be alive.

I reach the top of a rocky outcrop and look out onto a landscape of decay, the whole world is covered in this goo.

I'm atop an ancient rock, a high point solely because there is nothing up here worth eating.

Until now.

Disobeying what I know about fluid dynamics the rot starts flowing up the rocks.

The rot spreads fast, covering the rocks around me. I feel myself drawn in; the rot is accepting of all things. As I decompose I realize this is what I have always wanted. The buzzing of flies and the ancient smell of decaying cell walls, the taste of black soup made from countless billions of dead organisms feeding on each other.

This was the womb I was never aborted from.

Mutant human population

The human brain originally continued growing and changing, memory was limited, but the process remained dynamic, as such neurodegeneration could be overcome.

Those falling into predictable patterns became the slaves of the dynamic and life was indefinite.

Only through careful self awareness will anyone be able to break the genetic code restricting their freedom of thought.

I am developing a technique and will happily tutor you for a year in its use, but you have to pledge your life to me, or give me 55555 Swiss francs.

The power is mine.

Drank

Mixed in a Collins glass

One shot peppermint Schnapps
Two shots Green dragon vodka
Two shots lemon juice
Three shots lime juice
Three shots pineapple juice

Mad, they call me mad!

So it would seem that McVeigh found his justification for the Oklahoma city bombing while watching Clerks.

Clerks, released a year before the bombing, contains a scene in which Randal discusses and justifies the actions of the rebels acting against the empire by blowing up the death star. Citing politics as something everyone has a responsibility to be constantly aware of and active in.

McVeigh supposedly justified his actions to his biographers using the same analogy, I saw this referenced in a Jon Ronson film on the bombing.

I wonder what Kevin has to say about all this.

I didn't do it on purpose.