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The Exodus Files
The Big Five-O

Sunday November 21, 2004

I read an interesting thesis proposed in an article titled, "On executions, beheadings, and other propaganda operations," by Larry Chin on the Online Journal site. Here's an excerpt:

It is clear that most, if not all, of the conveniently-timed kidnappings and executions, false terror alerts, Osama Bin Laden videos, "al-Qaeda" arrests, constant Zarqawi drumbeat — have been staged and exploited for Anglo-American war propaganda, timed in order to 1) distract from the truth of unilateral Anglo-American aggression, 2) turn world opinion against those resisting US-led war and occupation, and 3) maintain the fear, shock and hate-based myth of "terrorism" and "the fanatical outside enemy."

I've been wondering the same thing. However, Chin goes much further by providing proof from the international media.

Shirley apparently sent me a text message last night. I did not see it until later. It read: "What up, boo? I'm so bored. I'm working in the x-mas tree tent at Daiei right now. Ok, laters, Boo." I had not seen or heard from Shirley in over a week. Well, the countdown to the Big Five-O continues. Only eight days left! Sheesh! After seeing my favorite Barnes & Noble babe yesterday, I've become disoriented. Naturally, I could never have a babe like that. However, my resolve has weakened and confusion has set in. There was a time that I wanted to be a part of mainstream society. Yes, I wanted big bank, big car, big house, and a babe. I was actually willing to commit to such a life-style. Now, things have changed. I'm a fucking old fart. Why can't I just face the music and be done with it just like the other old codgers?

I have noticed a disturbing trend. It's happening in Kane'ohe, so I suspect that it happens in all of the local 'hoods. Local kids are panhandling for money. They are probably about ten years of age. These are not homeless kids. They, in fact, live right in da 'hood. One punk kid approached me as I was walking with my recycling crap. He came out of the school auditorium, so I assumed that he was there with his parents for one of those charismatic church services. "Can I have a dollar?" he asked, holding his hand out. "Nope," I replied, "Go ask your parents." I should have kicked the little shit for field goal.

I departed for Chez Loser at 8:15am. The Ninja Turds had arrived a few minutes earlier and were already grating on my nerves. The bus trip was not as irritating as yesterday. In fact, the trip there and back went rather well. I sprayed the lanai with bleach again. I also sprayed the bathtub. Then, I partook of the wine in the fridge. I was hammered in no time. I left for town at 1pm. I wanted to return to Hawai'i Kai early enough to do my tanning hike. However, I was feeling pretty bad when I arrived. I have actually not felt good in a few days. Last night, I couldn't stop sneezing. It's probably a cold. After a few weeks of my grueling schedule, something had to give. I ate a couple of hot dogs for dinner. That was one of the most delicious meals I've had in a while. I'll be resting for the rest of the evening because I must return to wage slavery tomorrow.

Monday November 22

I did not sleep well last night. My nose was completely congested. I was sluggish all day as a result. At the Asylum, Erin told me that she applied for the position to be second in command. "Don't forget your buddies," I said. "Especially the one who convinced you to apply." She laughed. The rest of the day was a blur, mostly because I be illin'. I neglected to mention that the last submission of math journals from my class at the Diploma Mill was entertaining. Rico gave me a brief description of Pseudo-professor Melina. "Dresses well. Decent body. Nice legs," he wrote. He brings her up in conversation a lot, too. "She's around your age. You should come to my class sometime," he told me. By the way, most of my students believe that I am in my thirties. Another student, Christina, has been filling me in about her crush in class. I finally guessed who it was. In one of her entries, she wrote, "I don't know why I still refer to him as 'the guy' since you already know who it is. It's so silly." I laughed about that for days.

I read an interesting comment from Greg in Speak! IV. I thought I'd replicate it here for posterity.

Years ago, I used to adjunct at a third-rate University, much as T is doing now. Whenever I taught freshman lit, I would have my students buy American Splendor, the self-published comic book by Harvey Pekar. While I also taught "the classics," I felt it was important for the students to realize that in our times, the stories of the "little people" -- unrecognized heretofore by the canon of literature -- were the real new voices and new developments in literary history . . . and Pekar's acts of self publishing, self distribution (my students would actually call him up or write him for books) were as revolutionary as his desire to chronicle his life as a file clerk.

Harvey Pekar has gone on to fame and film, but the genre continues to develop, and I think LoserNet is right there at the core -- not because of T's life or travails, necessarily, but because he is a genuinely new voice in writing, and because Loser Living Upstairs stands as one of the original web posts that let us into the lives of -- not losers living upstairs, but -- the desperate, voiceless, enraged observers of the world. This, too, has been a new development in literary history.

What's incredible is that T is writing this history just as our culture is insisting on writing a history that claims that there are no real stories: the purpose of reality TV, the dominant mass culture genre of the moment, is to insist that we are all, at heart, the same, and we all want the same things out of life, and that we should all learn to respect each other, and . . . The effect of reality TV is to deny that there is a reality out there, and to convince people to give up their lives and simply emulate or consume the fantasy lives on TV.

T's dedication and obsessive writing show him to be a real artist, struggling to form the formless, railing against an indifferent world and attempting to tear the scab away from a badly healed universe.

He's also funny as hell. This "book" is as rich, referential and subversive as something by Nabokov. Read the recent exchanges and ruminations re: Anonder, and tell me that you don't die laughing when you think about T mulling over world economic analysis from a guy who is concocting these analyses while furiously masturbating in a sleeping bag in the rain somewhere in France. This is priceless stuff.

Beauty and genius are all around us if we can just see them.


Thanks, Greg! Well, I've been reading a few articles about the alleged election fraud, and it looks as though the situation is a lot worse than it seemed. I read the material on the BlackBoxVoting site for the first time. It's incredible. All of it is reminiscent of the movie Wrong is Right with Sean Connery. In fact, it's becoming plainly obvious that politics is totally out of control and the masses have no say in the process. The government is supposed to be run by public servants who serve the taxpayers. Instead, we are being bamboozled, controlled, and swindled by these fucking crooks. I firmly believe that my refusal to watch the tube has been instrumental in keeping my eyes open. The tube is bringing society to its knees by lobotomizing all who watch it. All of these nefarious politicians have a powerful mind-altering medium at their disposal. Hitler and Goebbels would be proud.

It seems that the Iraq situation is also out of control. One would be hard-pressed to know the real truth by depending on the mainstream "mind control" media. Even now, I fear that Shrub has had some kind of Messianic vision which is prompting him to invade Iran. I wonder if "Samhain" regrets voting for him. It's interesting to note that the Medo-Persian Empire once spanned all of Mesopotamia. Now, the Middle East is a fragmented bunch of goat herder tribes ruled by puppet regimes that were installed by the UK and the US in the 1920s. Oil is the only resource in this barren land. The puppet regimes siphon all of the money to their masters who, in turn, give them a cut. None of these regimes have bothered to arm themselves with technological weapons as Israel did. Hence, they are sitting ducks for any kind of incursion. This is what we are seeing today.

Tuesday November 23

I did not feel well all day. However, there was nothing I could do about it. So, I had to spend my day in wage slave misery. I happened to view a Dutch documentary about the Carlyle Group. The latter is a large investment banking firm, which now owns a good percentage of the domestic defense and weapons manufacturing firms. It became clearly obvious to me that the current incursion in Iraq is a ludicrous venture for defense contractors. The company had first bought into defense firms after the Cold War ended. Most of that genre of companies were going at fire sale prices. It wasn't until the first Gulf War that these companies made a big turnaround. Perpetual ground warfare is what fuels the profit line for these companies. In times of peace, profit margins are much lower. The Middle East is the perfect place for perpetual ground warfare, especially in non-nuclear countries like Iraq. The non-nuclear component is very important. The use of nuclear weapons ends the game too quickly. In addition, nuclear warfare is an equal opportunity game. In other words, the elite can be adversely affected as well as the poor and destitute. In ground warfare, only the poorest of fools will be sacrificed in the ultimate survival game to the death. This is a grand scale implementation of what happened in the old Roman amphitheaters. This is also the so-called "military-industrial complex" which Dwight Eisenhower warned against back in the 1950s. It's here now. It rules our lives. There is a lot of money involved here, so much money that we cannot even imagine. The possibility of a true conspiracy is extremely high with this much dough at stake.

It doesn't take a genius to see that the whole charade makes sense. "September 11th" was our modern day Operation Northwoods. It has made perpetual war possible amongst the most misunderstood and alienated people. The victims were sacrificed for the good of the "military-industrial complex." With war strategy similar to that used in Iraq, the confrontations can remain controlled. The fact that Iraq is out of control is merely a stage prop. That's what was supposed to happen. The troops being sent there are expendable. They are "cannon fodder." The Iraqis (and soon the Iranians) are "cannon fodder." None of these smiling politicians could give a shit about whether any lives are lost. After all, it doesn't affect their families or the families of the elite. By the way, war is also an effective means of population control. Everything becomes crystal clear. What about the religious aspect? That's still figured in. The elite have already bought their tickets to Heaven. The US is "God's chosen nation" in their eyes, but it is only a means to an end as was the nation of Israel. The "military-industrial complex" is a tool. It will be used like a tool until it is worn out. The country could collapse but it will not affect the elite. Money, especially in large denominations, is quite portable. In other words, the elite will be "saved" and resurrected into the "New Order." The "New Order" will be free of the "Gentiles," namely the poor and the destitute, the sick, the non-affluent elderly, the non-Christians, and all non-Caucasians. There is a chance that the country could erupt in a civil war. The Department of Homeland Security has been primarily established just for that contingency. There are reports of very large compounds constructed in desolate areas around the country. The compounds are surrounded by barbed wire fences facing inward. The compounds are also manned by minimal security forces. Estimates are showing that several thousand people could be interned in each. You be the judge. However, it really requires an open mind.

Wednesday November 24

An uneventful and meaningless day. I am still feeling a little under the weather. My patience was at an all-time low. Fortunately, I was able to get a lot done, mostly for my wage slave job. My personal life has been put on hold indefinitely. That's going to catch up with me soon enough. At the Asylum, Erin confirmed that she is one of the three finalists for the second in command position. Gino, the accounting instructor, came by. He has not been teaching at all in the last six weeks. He told me an interesting story of how he gave up his career in accounting to start up his own firm. He was 48 years old at the time. He also said that he made only $300 in his first six months, but he kept plugging away. Now, he has a very profitable business. He encouraged me to do the same.

I chatted with Robert and Pseudo-professor Ralph briefly this afternoon at the Diploma Mill. Nothing important. Everyone is getting ready for Thanksgiving. Shirley sent e-mail on Monday. She wanted to know if we could go to dinner or out for a few drinks for the "New Beginning" celebration. She also wanted to know if I was going to be at Chez Loser on Thanksgiving Day. She wanted to stop by after work. I replied today stating that I wasn't sure of my plans. Most likely, I will end up going to Lori's dinner party. I will have to drive to Kane'ohe sometime this weekend. I must transport the last of my possessions because I do not know if I will still have a driver's license next week. I am completely fatigued from wage slavery and this crappy cold. Moms is preparing a turkey, so I know that the Ninja Turds will be by again. My decision to go to Chez Loser for the day has been made.

Thanksgiving Day

Moms began preparing the turkey from early in the morning. I walked down to the gym in Koko Marina and did my usual workout. After I returned, I took a shower. I drove my six-four down to Foodland in Koko Marina. I bought two bottles of Chardonnay. One was the original "Hammer." The other was the La Crema label. I bought the latter to bring to Lori's place, just in case I decided to go. I left for Chez Loser shortly afterward. I realized that I forgot to buy the book for the driver's license written test. So, I stopped off at Long's in Kane'ohe. I bought the book and another bottle of really cheap fake "Hammer." The book was $5 or so. It was raining really hard. I had nothing else better to do than open the cheap bottle of wine. It tasted like shit, but I drank it anyway. I spent some time reading the crappy driver's license book. I also decided to begin the process of removing the dishwasher. It looks as though I can install the new one myself. What inspired me to do this was an ad in the paper. Lowe's is having a big sale. There's a dishwasher on sale for $137! That's a deal. I left Chez Loser at 5pm. Shirley never came by. I had parked in a visitor's spot just in case she did visit. I had my six-four packed with stuff. I am officially evacuated from Chez Loser with the exception of the furniture.

I stopped by Lori's place, even though I really wasn't in the mood. The food was good. I actually had a couple of interesting conversations with people. It was a completely haole affair, which is what I expected. I drank some of the La Crema Chardonnay. Now I realize why I was so hammered on New Year's Eve. Of course, you won't read about that since I had to prune the journal. I was pretty hammered when I left. Overall, I am glad that I was there. There's certainly a lot to be thankful for this year. I have had a good year even though it was riddled with wage slave crap. There's just a few days before the Big Five-O, and I am not exhibiting any anxiety right now. I am only troubled that no one really cares about what is happening on the other side of the planet. The fact that we are not living in those conditions is something to really be thankful for. We here at LoserNet hope that you have had a pleasant Thanksgiving Day.

Friday November 26

I was pretty hammered last night when I returned. I woke up this morning feeling crappy. I departed for town at 9am. I was able to make a connecting bus fairly quickly, which put me at the Kalihi Satellite City Hall before 10:30am. That's when the nightmare unfolded. The line was not very long, but it took me almost 45 minutes before I was able to submit my paperwork and surrender my Cali license. The clerk needed my Social Security card. I didn't have it. She processed my application, but told me that I could not take the written exam until I had proof of my Social Security number. Why the fuck would the State of California issue me a driver's license without that? In fact, the number is encoded on the magnetic stripe in the back. I had two choices. I could bring my card in, or I could go to the Federal building in town and have a verification sent. I was given until 3:30pm. I caught the next bus back to town. I had to walk to the Federal building. Naturally, there was a long line. I had to wait about 20 minutes to get an "appointment" with another clerk. Then, I had to wait about 30 minutes for the "appointment." The actual transaction took less than two minutes. I was off again back to Kalihi. When I arrived at the Satellite City Hall, the line was three times longer. I waited over an hour in line. There a haole young hottie at the beginning of the line. I could feel the pangs of mid-life crisis again. She was probably in her mid-twenties. Standing in line was almost bearable while she was in view. After that, she left to stand in another line, something that I would be doing as well.

I finally had my turn. I was able to process the application. I had to go stand in the cashier line to pay for my written test, the one that was so important that I had to have a verified Social Security number. The wait was about 20 minutes. I paid $2 for the exam, then I had to go to the test waiting line. If I passed the exam, then I would have to return to the cashier line to pay for my new license. Baby was already back when I paid for my exam. She was now apparently waiting to get her picture taken. I went to take the exam. Fortunately, I did not have to wait in line at all. The fucking written exam took me less than three minutes to complete. I passed it with only one incorrect answer. I walked back to the cashier line. By that time, baby was standing in line to wait for her new license. I paid for my license. Then, I had to stand and wait for 10 minutes to get called for my picture. Baby was still waiting for her license. In these last two processes, our names are called out. Baby's name is Stacey. She finally got her license and left. She is a hottie! I went through the same crap and finally got my license. By this time, it was already 2:30pm. So, there was no way I would be able to go to Lowe's. I walked out to the bus stop. Baby was standing at the other end.

A bus finally came by. All of us boarded the bus except for baby. I was the last one on. I heard her ask the driver if the bus was going to Ala Moana. Then, she got on the bus. I was standing in the front. She moved to the middle. At the next stop, I moved to the back as quite a few passengers boarded. It was a torturous ride. I saw baby looking back a few times. What a babe! I became quite distressed knowing that I will be a senior citizen in three days. I don't need to worry about babes anymore. I got off in town and went to the gym. At least I was able to do something productive today. I'm not sure why I didn't snap and go ballistic in Kalihi. Well, that's probably because I was distracted by baby.

I noticed that Anonder has completely removed his journal archives. He mentioned something about possibly being discovered by people who know him as one reason. That's odd. I wonder what prompted him to take this drastic action. Perhaps, it was the situation that happened with the former friend. I don't know. Mr. Ray designed a banner for LoserNet. It will be the mid-page banner for subsequent chapters of the journal. I'll include it here as a preview.

Chip had called sometime in the morning. He left a message that he wanted to get together later at Kahala Mall. I didn't not hear the message until after I returned to Hawai'i Kai. I am too fatigued from the fiasco today. Last night, I was chatting with both Lori and Debbie, the realtor, about whether applying for the license will get me jury duty. No one knew for sure. "Just throw the letter away, and say you never got it," Debbie offered as a tip. "It's not certified." In retrospect, I should have just walked out and not gone back to Kalihi. That was my omen to not get the license. I should have heeded the warning. I'm a fucking old fart now. I don't need anymore bullshit. This is the last roundup for me, so I need to get with the program. Costa Rica Cinco!

Saturday November 27

The House of Lolo was extremely noisy last night. The old ho' had her BoyToy staying over for the past few nights. The young ho' had her friends coming and going all night long. I surmise that the lolo and his wife are away on vacation. I tried to leave for town at 11am. However, there was some kind of lame-ass parade on Lunalilo Home Road. I saw the bus as it skipped the turn up the street where I was waiting and drove off. I walked down toward Koko Marina. I saw one of the transit supervisors in his car. I asked him about the alternate routes for the buses. He apparently didn't know much. I tried to catch the other bus along the street. One of the high school marching bands was walking back on the sidewalk. The parade ended at Koko Marina. There was about 70 of the little punks. None of them wanted to give me any room on the sidewalk, so I rammed them all. "Excuse me," they kept yelling sarcastically. These dumb little fucks have no idea how stupid they sounded. It's a good time to reinstate the military draft, eh? A tour of Afghanistan for a year may teach them some etiquette. I saw the bus coming up the street and barely was able to make. I was glad to exit that madhouse. From this point forward, stupidity is going to increase exponentially. This is the holiday shopping season, when everyone turns into dickheads.

I got off at A'ala Park, the daytime home of the homeless. I had to use the restroom right in the middle of Homeless Central. However, I felt right at home. Most of them were having a good time hanging out in the park. Then, I walked to the bus stop at the edge of Chinatown. For some reason, none of the buses destined for Waipahu showed up. I waited there for almost 30 minutes. Finally, one of the City Express buses arrived. Only a few of them go out to Waipahu. I boarded the bus and was on my way. I finally arrived in Waipahu 1:30pm. I had to wait a few more minutes for the Waikele shuttle. It was damned near two o' clock when I set foot in Waikele. The place was packed. The traffic was horrible. I walked to Lowe's. Caroll had called while I was en route. I called her back and chatted with her for a few minutes as I was walking. Lowe's is huge. I finally found the appliance department. There were no sales people around, so I walked to the sales kiosk. Four of them were choking da chicken. I almost walked out because none of them even noticed that I was standing there. I finally was able to get some assistance. I purchased the cheap $137 dishwasher. The delivery charge will be $60, a rip-off. It will be delivered next Sunday. I will install it myself since Lowe's charges $156 for that. Right now, I'm not sure how I am going to dispose of the old dishwasher. I will probably have to pay some clown to haul it off.

I spent a total of 20 minutes in Lowe's. That's about all I could tolerate. There were too many idiots roaming the aisles. I was able to board the Waikele shuttle almost immediately. My connecting bus arrived within a few minutes as well. In town, I had to wait about 20 minutes for the bus to Hawai'i Kai. I arrived at 5:30pm. That's over six hours in commuting time alone. I could have just driven my six-four out there, but I must get used to not having a car. In addition, the traffic was such a mess that I would have gone ballistic. I am going to try to avoid any shopping area for the next three weeks. What's amazing is that I haven't gotten hammered yet. These last two days should have brought me to the edge of sanity. Somehow, it just didn't affect me. I suspect that the Big Five-O is what is causing the change.

I am actively formulating my strategy for survival, so I am less affected by the myriad asswipes around me. I am still bantering around ideas, but I am sure that it will gel by the end of Monday. I am inclined to divest almost everything. My interim goal is to reduce my possessions to just my computer. I have three options for Chez Loser, but I will not make a final decision until the first of the year. I have less than two weeks for Christmas vacation, so I will need to use this time wisely to line my ducks in a row. Here's an interesting side note. The City Council has been trying to decide on a new landfill for waste disposal. No community wants the landfill. One of the Council suggested Koko Crater. What a maroon! Another is suggesting that we pay to ship it to the mainland. Here we are, close to Peak Oil, and the City wants to ship the garbage to the mainland. Who is going to pay for this? It's plain to see that our time is coming here in the islands. We are burying ourselves in trash because of insatiable consumerism. Within five years, the whole island will be gridlocked because of the sheer number of cars. Remember the stoneheads on Easter Island? History is repeating itself.

Sunday November 28

I started the morning out with a refreshing hike up Koko Head. The sun is not as radiant in the Winter. Photon emissions were limited, which resulted in no tanning component. I departed for Chez Loser at 10:45am. The trip was quite leisurely. I wanted to spend some of my more comatose moments of the bus ride in contemplation of my final plan for life. Somehow I never pondered the topic. Upon arrival, I immediately poured a glass of wine. The cheap fake "Hammer" was rancid. I threw it out. Fortunately, I still had some Vendage Cabernet Sauvignon left. I inspected the dishwasher. I believe that I can take it apart and transport it back to Hawai'i Kai in my six-four. I'll be able to leave it outside since the 'hood has bulk trash pickup. I also inspected the washer and dryer. Both are not in the greatest shape. Hopefully Lowe's will have a sale on its cheapest line of washers and dryers. Soon all of Chez Loser will be equipped with the Roper® line of fine products. The walls need to be repainted as well. It's Glidden® Swiss Cocoa. I don't particularly like the brownish tint, but I am not going to change colors. The carpet also has to be replaced. I have no idea where I am going to get the money to do all of this. I was drinking wine steadily for an hour. I was completely hammered.

I left at 2pm. Once in town, I usually stop off at the Diploma Mill's library to use the restroom. I ran into my former student, Dustin, on the second floor. As you may recall, he was also in my graduating class from high school. We are the same age. Naturally, we discussed the issue of the Big Five-O and how it affects our lives. I have come to the conclusion that only people in my age group can fully understand the plight of becoming a senior citizen. As little as I have in common with Lori, I can at least know that she fully understands what we're all going through. When I arrived in Hawai'i Kai, I was felt bad. I believe that I am experiencing a relapse of the cold that brutalized me all last week. I've been running around too much, something that old guys should not be doing. Oh well. I'll be listening to House Music on my Bose® Acoustic Wave for the rest of the evening. Shirley also called a left a message sometime today. I have not called her back.

Ol' Lavahead Day

My homey Rod called last night and left a message. He wanted to wish the ol' lavahead well on this most dreadful occasion. Rod and I share the same B-day. Rod also mentioned that he will be visiting in May rather than January. He's having some financial difficulties, something I can relate to as well. I kept thinking about what Dustin had said yesterday. "There's maybe 25 productive years," he said. "Out of that, there may be 10 or 15 good years left." He's right. Neither of us are Spring chickens. Well, hey! These are the Viagra Years! Today is also Scott's B-day. Scott is a long-time reader of LoserNet.

I saw Lori on the express bus. She sat and chatted with someone else. However, she confirmed that we will be having lunch at Palamino's. I saw Pseudo-professor Dorothy in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. I mentioned the Big Five-O. "Well, now you can include 40-year-old babes in your selection of hotties," she said. I told her that I do not need to worry about babes anymore. I will have other issues to deal with. Lori called and left a message to confirm the time we would meet at Palamino's. I left the Asylum early enough to walk there comfortably. There were some young hottie hostesses working there. However, I am a senior citizen now. Lori arrived on time. We had a pleasant lunch and a nice chat. I told her of my ordeal with the driver's license and my trip to Lowe's. I had a nice glass of wine to celebrate the "New Beginning." Lori was a little perturbed at the end of our meal. She wouldn't say why, but I believe it's because the waitress forgot to bring out the B-day dessert dish. To me, it was no big deal. Overall, I appreciated the thoughtful gesture.

I learned that "Samhain" will visiting next week at the Asylum. It turns out that his B-day is the day of the Asylum end-of-the-year party. So, the party is now going to be his B-day party as well. I have already declined to attend. Erin told me that she has been eliminated from the pool of candidates for the second in command position. Last week, she was told that she was one of the finalists. I am certain that "Samhain" had his hand in this. He wants a full haole staff. Clearly, the writing is on the wall for all of us

Shirley called and left a message. I finally called her back around 4pm. I was a little groggy from my cold and the glass of wine. I barely made it through my workout at the gym. Shirley wanted to know if we were going to do anything tonight. She has a night class, but it ends after 7pm. My last class ends at 5pm. We couldn't decide, so I told her to call me later. She called while I was waiting at the bus stop. Our plan was to meet out in Hawai'i Kai. However, Shirley did not get out of class as early as she planned. She called at 8pm. She wants to do something on Sunday instead. I agreed, but that is also the day my new dishwasher is to be delivered. Well, we'll work it out.

Tuesday November 30

An uneventful day. Two of my classes at the Asylum are going to have potluck party exams. They will be bringing a lot of food. And, they will be doing their exams while they eat. The students are pretty excited because there are no activities at the Asylum anymore. They probably don't realize that a student activities fee is being tacked on to their financial aid. That's just more free fraudulent money for "Samhain." Some faculty voiced concern to me that some of the things that I have been discussing are being fed back to the administration through a mole. I've narrowed down the suspects to two people: Joanne and Kevin. I broached the situation with Kevin in a gingerly fashion. He immediately tried to implicate Joanne, so I knew that his hands were dirty. Joanne has been talking too much, too. She just doesn't realize that she is being used. Joanne revealed that the new second in command is a Pacific Islander. So, I suspect that she's either Kim's friend, family member, or a fellow Mormon. This evening, Wayne told me that he did not see any difference in enrollment since we changed over to the six-week terms. In fact, there seems to be a slight decline. More faculty are beginning to believe my predictions. "Samhain" has increased the Asylum's marketing efforts and doubled the number of registration periods, yet it has not affected the total enrollment. However, with only 250 students, he will have a $3.2 million annual revenue stream.

So far, I haven't experienced any "blowback" from the Big Five-O. I have to input my age into the Transporter-like machine at the gym. Punching in "50" was a difficult task. There have been many changes already. I've given up my Cali license. I transferred $500 more into my retirement account as per the "catch-up" provision for senior citizens. I refer to myself as a "senior citizen" exclusively. I am also beginning to formulate my strategy for the end game. I had expected to exit the status quo. However, it seems that Chez Loser has locked me in. My strategy must therefore consider the ultimate disposition of Chez Loser. I plan to expedite the aesthetical upgrades. Then, I will make the decision to sell or rent the place. I saw an ad in the rental section of the classified the other day. A unit exactly like mine was going for $1,500 per month. The ad is no longer running. So, I am in a quandary. Do I try to make a quick capital gain now, or should I go for steady income and build equity over time? I'll discuss more of this in the days to come.

Wednesday December 1

I neglected to mention that there's a fee simple one-bedroom unit for sale at the same complex as Chez Loser. The asking price is higher than what I paid for Chez Loser. I am now wondering whether this is really the time to sell. The situation at the Asylum may be the deciding factor. I learned that the bloated marketing and admissions department was only able to recruit 21 new students. I have already estimated that the Asylum will lose more students than it brings in, mainly because of the demanding six-week schedule. The downward trend is beginning. It should be clearly significant by V-Day, just as I have predicted. Even with these alarming numbers, the staff is bloated again with the addition of the new second in command. The whole organizational structure doesn't make sense. Soon, there will only be staff members sitting around in an empty building. I do not see any kind of strategy coming from "Samhain." He seems to operate impulsively, always focusing on the most superfluous matters. Of course, when he runs his company out of business, he will leave a string of "casualties." In other words, the rest of us will be unemployed. Could "Samhain" be this stupid? Or, is he planning to bankrupt the Asylum for tax purposes?

I made an appointment to see my physician for my annual check-up. I must take care of my medical and dental issues before I lose my health plan. I will also spend part of my short vacation to spruce up Chez Loser. I have a feeling that I will need to make a quick decision about its disposition. My guess is that I will not be able to pay the mortgage for much longer. I am still maintaining a two-month reserve in my local bank. As a senior citizen, I can no longer tolerate anything that will only give me grief. I will continue to be in survival mode for the rest of my life. That's a given. As a side note, there was an article on the Net about some clown who was done in by his Lava Lamp. The standard 60-watt light bulb was not making the wax globs in the lamp flow fast enough. So, the fool put the Lava Lamp on the stove. Naturally, it exploded. I shared this tidbit with my math class at the Diploma Mill yesterday.

Thursday December 2

From monk to mid-life crisis to senior citizen. That's the story of my life, and you've been here with me all the way. The sad part, my friends, is that I am ready to throw in the towel. I am ready to give up. I am fatigued and demoralized. Everything is coming apart at the seams. I have no purpose for my existence. And, I have been pushed down Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs to the survival level. The prophesy is being fulfilled. The sinister kahuna is unleashing every kind of affliction to bring me to my knees. I am now a senior citizen. I am too old and too decrepit to do anything anymore. How long before I am senile?

An uneventful day. I am not certain about my classes for the next six weeks at the Asylum. I could be down to only two classes. The same holds true for the Diploma Mill this Spring. The moment of truth may be here. Erin said good-bye to all of us at the Asylum. She gave me a hug before she left. "Take care of Shirley," she said, as an afterthought. My classes at the Asylum had potluck party exams. The rest of the day was meaningless. The statistics for both LoserNet mirror sites indicate that no one has visited in four days. I may as well purchase a Lava Lamp and heat it up on the stove while I'm at it. Sheesh!

Friday December 3

At the Asylum, Kevin asked me to cover one of his classes next week. He does not want to submit the official substitution form because he won't get paid. So, I will work for free, and he will not lose any of his precious money. I really don't care. I hope that his "karmic" reward comes soon. He said that he has a doctor's appointment. He has to take a battery of tests because he may have glaucoma and a possible urinary problem. Kevin is seven years younger than I. He's looking much more middle-aged, which I suspect originated from his nefarious ways. I was finally able to restore my military haircut. The rest of the day was uneventful.

I am still a little under the weather. I have been quite fatigued as a result. I am completely demoralized by everything. The news is now filled with propaganda about Iran. It's the same old "weapons of mass destruction" bullshit. The so-called "war" is going to escalate. The alternative media is reporting that the US has deployed napalm and other chemical weapons in Iraq. I was sickened to read about it. I am at the point now that  I wish I could afford to give most of the people in this country Lava Lamps with modified instructions to heat the damned thing up on a stove.

My financial situation is worsening. I will only have two classes at the Asylum, which will bring my income down. Kevin has four classes, by the way. I will not be able to make the mortgage and other expenses. I could pay off my second mortgage and my other loan, but I would deplete my savings by 45 AWUs. With my two-month reserve, my total savings including my retirement accounts only comes to 103 AWUs. Obviously, this is not enough for the future. I am beginning to wonder whether I should not worry about saving money anymore. It's a lost cause. I am too old to catch up. I will end up destitute and eating dog food when I am in my 70s anyway. I could sell Chez Loser now and possibly make a gross profit of 65 AWUs. When I pay the closing costs and the capital gains tax, the net profit will be about half. I could rent out Chez Loser at $1,500 per month. Then, the place would essentially pay for itself. The latter is the best option. Yet, I have reservations about renting it out. The reason is somewhat stupid. Chez Loser is my place, and it's my little getaway during the weekends. It's also the only thing that I have to show for myself. These are stupid reasons to hold on to a place that I do not reside in. Yet, psychological capital is just as important as financial capital. I can possibly afford to keep the place if I pay down the two loans I mentioned previously. I'd lose some of my tax deductions, though. In a little over a year, I will be past the time limit to avoid the capital gains tax (as long as I don't rent it out). These are the crazy options which now confront me. I also have less than a month to donate my six-four. Decision are required now, but I am not certain how to proceed.

Saturday December 4

I embarked on the benign journey to Chez Loser at 9am. The trip went smoothly. I stopped off at Safeway to buy a big-ass bottle of wine. I walked to Chez Loser, dropping off some recycling along the way. Upon arrival, I immediately began working on the dishwasher project. I brought just a handful of tools with me. That was enough to remove the dishwasher. I was also able to take most of it apart. Tomorrow, I will bring my set of tools and dismantle it further. I should be able to haul the pieces back in my six-four. Naturally, I had to pop the cork on the bottle of wine. I was hammered in no time.

I left at 2:15pm. The bus was over 30 minutes late, so I was in a really bad way. The wine exacerbated the situation even further. I was cussing at the bus stop. The other people were looking at me cautiously, like I was some kind of psycho. I actually was able to make the connecting bus. Upon arrival back in Hawai'i Kai, I saw moms out in the yard. Moms was cutting the grass on the hill with a pair of scissors. I tried to do the yardboy chores, but the Weedwhacker was ready for the trash can. The motor has become intermittent. I threw the piece of shit on the ground a few times to see if that would help. To add insult to injury, the water heater was off all day. The wind blew out the pilot light as usual. I had to take a cold shower. The Lowe's delivery department called and left a message. The dishwasher is to be delivered late tomorrow afternoon. I was a little perturbed about the time. I will have nothing to do but get hammered.

I've got to stop partaking of the cheap booze. I am too old for that. In addition, I don't need any health complications. After this weekend, I am going to cut back. I also need to save every dime now. I'm in survival mode. This coming week, I am planning to call a few charities to find out the procedure to donate my six-four. I have promised to make radical changes after the Big Five-O. So far, nothing has happened. It's time that I kept my word.

Sunday December 5

The authentication server was apparently down last night, so I was not able to connect to the Net via dial-up. I was at a loss for something to do. I had to watch Wild Things again, one of the two DVDs that I own. My life now is so pathetic. I'm a senior citizen with absolutely nothing to do. There were several interesting articles in the paper this morning about the large number of old folks in Hawai'i and the challenges they face. I am fortunate because moms is fairly healthy compared to almost everyone else in her age group. There are a number of people who are on the verge of bankruptcy because of the financial and emotional burden incurred because their parents require constant care. Overall, I really began to see the futility in the life that I am pursuing.

I departed for Chez Loser at 10am in my beloved six-four. I planned to get a lot done. When I arrived, I immediately started on my various projects. I took a break and walked over to Ace Hardware to buy some spray paint. The price was too high, so I ended up buying the paint at City Mill. I had to paint the shitty pressboard cabinets because of the moisture damage from the old dishwasher. I also sprayed chlorine bleach on my lanai again. Then, I further dismantled the old dishwasher. I loaded the pieces in my six-four. I also packed more stuff to bring back because I am continuing to evacuate Chez Loser. The dishwasher arrived at 1pm. The cheap piece of shit is completely made out of plastic, so it is very light. If I had known that, I could have saved $60 by transporting it myself. The old dishwasher is completely made out of steel. The installation took over three hours. I ended up salvaging a lot of parts from the old dishwasher in order to install the new one. I had to make another trip to Ace Hardware to buy a couple of wire nuts. I saved $156 by doing the installation myself, but it was quite an ordeal. I had to partake of the cheap wine during the process. I was completely hammered in no time. The wine was flowing like water. I departed at 5pm. Along the way back to Hawai'i Kai, I had an encounter with a brain donor. I erupted in road rage. I have decided that I must remove myself from the road. I can no longer trust myself to drive sanely.

Shirley never called, which was fine with me. I did not want to celebrate the "New Beginning" again. I am gradually losing touch with Shirley, which is also fine with me. I have a new agenda now, something that only fucking old farts can understand. I will need to divest myself of my six-four as soon as possible. In addition, I have to do something about Chez Loser. A week has gone by, and I haven't done shit. I should be planning my exodus from society. Instead, I am playing games with myself. There is no more time. Time ran out last week. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing. I am a fucking old fart. I have no more time to play games with myself. Why can't I read my own fucking lips?


The ramifications of the Big Five-O are becoming clearer by the day. Perhaps it was the numbing effect of senior citizenship which preempted my realization of old age. Now, my mortality is about all that I can focus upon. With only a couple of good years left, I must quickly adapt to the life-style that I will be living until the end. No car. No house. No babes. No dough. I will become one of the shriveled up prunes whom no one notices unless I am in the way. It's a sad story. I have discovered that there is only one magic potion to stay young. That, my friends, is freedom. Ultimate freedom. Wage slavery, consumerism, mortgages and the like will only bring about stress and premature aging. Only true freedom can restore our lost youth. Freedom was the crux of the "New Beginning" celebration, but I must have lost my way. I am completely enslaved, and I am miserable. I am at the beck and call of every asshole out there. I must entertain the whims of these fools because I chose to live by their rules. When will I ever learn? Rules are made by people who will never have to live by them. Rules are tools of exclusion. In the past few years, I have yearned for my freedom. However, I keep going back to my prison. I have only a little time to enjoy true freedom. The journey continues . . .

To be continued ... Go to E.14

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