The Exodus Files
Ides of March 2006 Update
Watching myself struggle each day with wage slavery and slavery in general, learning about moms being pulled into the vortex of stupidity created by my bro's family, and dealing with general idiocy has fatigued me beyond human capacity. I perused the Livable Income site and was quite amazed to discover an organization that has similar beliefs to my own concerning society. A quote on the site from "Happiness," by Will Ferguson is appropriate:
"Our entire economy is built on human weaknesses, on bad habits and insecurities. Fashion. Fast food. Sports cars. Techno-gadgets. Sex toys. Diet centres. Hair clubs for men. Personal ads. Fringe religious sects. Professional sports teams -- there's vicarious living for you! Hair salons. Male mid-life crisis. Shopping binges. Our entire way of life is built on self-doubt and dissatisfaction ..."
No matter what we all try to do, we can't fight it. The whole damned society is based on consumerism and endless consumption. Limiting one's own consumption is fruitless. Someone else will take up the slack. What is really bothersome is the fact that all aspects of life now emulate consumption patterns and behavior. Committing to the life of an urban hermit is a ludicrous solution. There is no escape.
What's left? My hurdy-gurdy DVD collection, of course! My goal is to collect hundreds of the finest hurdy-gurdy DVDs. After all, this is how the libido (Robert's favorite term for the craving of da wild thing) is rechanneled in the consumerist society. Relationships have no meaning, no matter what anyone says. It's the divorce statistics which speak the loudest. Relationships are now based purely on comsumerist principles. Use and discard. If defective, discard immediately. Aside from da wild thing, there is no basis for relationships. Who really needs someone else for anything other than that? We have no reason to rely upon others. For the most part people are unreliable, so it's easier to contract services. We do this regularly with our cars, appliances, and so forth. So, in order to avoid the deception, drama, and games so common with the babe situation, it is best to invest in a good hurdy-gurdy DVD library.
An article in the Sunday paper almost left me totally disillusioned. More studies have indicated the toxic nature of fish, primarily tuna and salmon. Fortunately, it turns out that canned salmon and some canned tuna are okay. I was ready to revert to complete beans-only diet. Therein lies yet another tale of how precarious our lives have become. Another article highlighted the fact that 80 percent of O'ahu is locked in traffic gridlock for approximately 80 minutes one way during prime time. A map showed the affected areas. Only Kane'ohe and Kailua were unaffected. One only has to look at the size of the island to see how foolish the situation really is. The projected population growth for the island will make the traffic problem intolerable within 15 years. My guess is that we can also extrapolate what the housing market will look like in the future. According to Lori, an inside source disclosed that larger numbers of Federal personnel will be relocated to Hawai'i in the next few years as part of Homeland Security.
It rained for all three days in Kane'ohe during the holiday weekend. I was even more sold on the idea of divesting Chez Loser. Nonetheless, I was able to commute to town on the bus. On Monday, I drove to Hawai'i Kai to pick up moms. We drove to Ala Moana. We ate bento lunch at Shirokiya. Then, we walked around and looked in a few stores. I believe that moms just wanted to get out of the house. Moms had called on Saturday when I was in town. To me, it sounded as though moms was lonely. I realized right then that I must spend more time with moms than the once-a-week lunch at Kahala Mall.
I stopped off at Kahala Mall briefly. I bought a couple of bottles of Vendage wine at Long's. I wanted to spend some time at Barnes & Noble, but all of the people were driving me crazy. Back at Chez Loser, I decided to finally clean up the shitty work done to patch some holes in the wall. The holes are where the mounts for shelving were located. The moron used some kind of caulk fill the holes. Worst yet, he attempted to texturize the caulk. I bought a box of single-edge razor blades at Long's to shave down the caulk. After a couple of hours and a few glasses of wine, the job was done.
I am not sure about what is going on with my bro's family. I sense there is some kind of friction, most likely because my bro's wife had gotten used to my bro being gone. My bro is allegedly going to start commuting to Mau'i under the same working arrangement as before. Moms said that my bro wants to lease an apartment rather than share a cottage with his fellow workers. I found that to be highly irregular.
I submitted my Federal tax return a week prior and mailed my Hawai'i tax return on Tuesday. Debbie, my realtor, sent the paperwork to list Chez Loser on the MLS in March. On Wednesday, I decided to transfer most of my money market fund balance to a higher yielding fund. The suggestion had appeared on my annual statement. The fund earns 0.1 percent more than my current fund. I will need all the dough that I can squeeze out of my investments. Lately, I have had premonitions that I will be fully unemployed before the end of the year.
Unemployment is not a totally scary prospect for me. It may actually be the event that finally emancipates me from wage slavery. I am particularly distressed that I am only able to visit with moms only once per week. I never want to be in a position in which I experience regret over events that I had control over. Even now, I feel totally stupid that I am unable to devote more time to what is important to me. Thus, I have no choice but to expedite my exit from society.
Robert made a surprise visit to the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill on Thursday. At the time, I was quite upset over the estimate of closing costs that Debbie, my realtor, had sent me. The calculation of my gains was off by $60,000 in the negative. Robert found that quite humorous. However, Debbie called and assured me that it was a mistake. I was relieved. Robert had a look of dismay on his face. "You need to share the wealth," he said, as he sat there with his Blackberry® and his Bluetooth® headset. He and I are no longer "parallel lives" buddies. Our lives are quite divergent these days.
The Salvation Army came by on Saturday to pick up more stuff that I was divesting. I ended up in town as usual. Debbie sent e-mail. She believes that I will be receiving offers for Chez Loser within two weeks of listing, which apparently is not farfetched. According to Heather, the former Asylum student working at a title and escrow firm, home sales have picked up again.
Moms called that afternoon. Apparently, the AARP senior free tax service refused to do moms' tax returns because of the complexity of the gift tax form. Moms wanted to set up an appointment with my bro's tax accountant. I ended up calling the guy. He told me that I could prepare the tax returns myself, if I was careful to follow all the instructions. I told him that I had already done so. Whenever I prepare my own taxes, I go through the long process of looking up all of the documentation if I am uncertain about anything. So, to make a long story short, I will be preparing moms' tax returns this year.
On Sunday, I finished the minor repairs on the walls. I also completed spot-painting all of the walls. In fact, the walls look as good as new. Moms called about noon to confirm that I was going to stop by for dinner. Against my better judgment, I agreed. I departed for Hawai'i Kai ay 2pm. First, I went to the gym. I arrived at my bro's place at 4pm. I chatted with moms while she cooked. I mainly discussed her tax returns. Form 709 was complete as far as I could tell. The bad news was that moms would owe money for both Federal and State taxes, not because of the house being gifted, but from cashing out her IRA. That small $15,000 account will result in over $3,000 in taxes due. Dinner was excellent. A far cry from my usual beans and rice fare. I was not very comfortable being there. It is quite obvious that my bro and his family would rather I disappear permanently. Only moms and I ate dinner together. I left at 6pm after chatting briefly with my bro.
I met moms at Kahala Mall on Monday. We ate lunch at the Panda Express as usual. I brought Form 709 for moms to sign. I also provided a worksheet with preliminary tax calculations. I am certain that I will have to help moms with the tax burden. I was sickened by the fact that the tax system is designed to keep the poor in their place right at the bottom of the food chain. I, myself, am privy to this kind of bullshit on a daily basis.
On Tuesday, I contacted Coldwell Banker Concierge to obtain a list of recommended carpet dealers. Debbie, my realtor, had given me two leads, but both turned out to be carpet repair outfits. The rough estimate over the phone was about $1,100 minimum. I can live with that.
I found the Retire Early site on the Net while I was wasting time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Quite interesting stuff. I have pondered my immediate situation, primarily what I plan to do for housing once I sell Chez Loser. I have come up with an approximate amount of capital gain to break even, should I decide to purchase another place. Given a small studio (less than $200,000 leasehold), I would need to capture a gain of about $44,000 in two years. I also calculated my tax advantage. In a nutshell, there is none. The mortgage interest would not amount to much more than the standard deduction. The real problem will be the taxable income generated from my investments. I could invest in Treasury-backed instruments, which would be exempt from some taxes. Oh, what to do, what to do ...
On Thursday, I decided to take the bus to Sand Island and visit American Carpet One. The dump bills itself as "Hawai'i's Largest Carpet Dealer." Indeed, it may be. I was treated to a subtle "bait and switch" tactic. Not much I can do, since the dump is the only place that can get the job done this month. After signing the papers and putting down a ten percent deposit, I was already on the verge of committing mayhem. Then, the salesputz waited until I was ready to leave before telling me, "Oh, by the way, you have to pay 50 percent when the guy comes by to measure your place." So, I am now paying between $1,500 amd $1,800 depending on whether I need to replace the padding. I had a headache for the rest of the day. What I really need to remember is that I will make a nice sum of money if and when Chez Loser is sold. The cost of the carpet will be chump change. I contacted Debbie by e-mail to let her know what's what. We will be waiting until the carpet is installed before listing Chez Loser. The whole situation is reminiscent of the infamous water torture. By the way, can you imagine the sheer number of hurdy-gurdy DVDs that I could have purchased if I did not need new carpet? Sheesh!
It has been raining for for almost two weeks straight. Worst hit was the Windward side including Kane'ohe. The rain cleared up on Friday evening. I had planned to tag along with Pseudo-professor Glenn on the Art Walk. I was afraid that it was going to rain, so I went home. Later in the evening, I drove to Safeway to do some shopping. I could not resist purchasing a bottle of quality fake "Hammer." I only consumed half the bottle.
I performed some major cleaning in Chez Loser early Saturday morning. I also attempted to clean my Papasan chair. Then, I left for town. I spent some time in the faculty computer room at the Diploma Mill. Then, I went to the gym. I reflected upon the meaninglessness of the remainder of my useless possessions. I was quite amazed about how the sum of all my piddly crap ends up displacing volumes of space. It just boggles the mind!
Moms called late Saturday afternoon to let me know that Caroll had called. She most likely called my old cell phone number and discovered that it was history. I also discussed moms' tax returns. I had to recalculate everything because I learned that only 50 percent of Social Security payments are taxable. So, the amount moms owes on taxes is down to about $1,600 or so. Moms had also told me that she had received tax refunds in prior years. Thus, moms must have elected to have taxes withheld, although there was nothing on the annual statement. My goal is to reduce the tax burden for moms as much as possible.
An article in the paper earlier in the week stated that homes sales have slowed down in Hawai'i. Condo sales were also down, but not quite as much. Many people are buying condos instead of single-family homes because the condos are more affordable. I can only pray that I will still be able to sell Chez Loser after listing it in April. Another article in the Sunday paper's real estate section had an accompanying graph which indicated that home inventories were up by at least 40 percent in most areas since the year prior. However, condo inventories were down ten percent in Kane'ohe, Pearl City and Waipahu. Good news perhaps.
I met moms at Kahala Mall on Monday. We ate lunch at Panda Express as usual. For the most part, we discussed moms' taxes. I was able to confirm the information that I needed to complete the tax returns. I was not able to reduce the tax burden any further. I also offered to pay the whole thing for moms.
I've become rather fatigued with the losers upstairs. The constant stomping and slammin' soirée as well as the constant need to drop heavy objects on the floor is pushing me over the edge. I am very certain that the parents of the fools bought the place for them. The thick babe is usually there by herself. A couple of days in the week, she has her stupid kid there. The kid spends every minute of his time running amuck. What I hear sounds like someone hammering for hours straight. The husband (or boyfriend) only usually returns home one day per week. Sometimes the bitch is gone for two days or more. I don't see any indication that either of them works full time. So, I am certain that the parents are paying the mortgage, too. Isn't entitlement great?
I decided to drive to Hawai'i Kai to visit moms on Thursday. After my class at the Seminary, I had quickly returned to Kane'ohe on the bus. The rain started up just as I was departing for Hawai'i Kai. We had a two-day reprieve from the last two-week bout of rain. I arrived in Hawai'i Kai at 12:10pm. My bro was home, apparently because his workplace was rained out. I chatted with my bro briefly. Then, I chatted with moms. I also brought the tax returns with me. Later, I walked to the gym in Koko Marina. Surprisingly, it stopped raining. Instead of driving directly home, I stopped off at Kahala Mall. I perused Tower Records and Barnes & Noble. I have not been in either store since last November. I did some shopping at Long's. Then, I bought a bottle of Santa Rita 120 Chardonnay and some Ahi Poke (pronounced po-kay) at Star Market. I actually enjoyed my little outing. When I returned home, I ate the Ahi Poke for dinner. Lori had called an left a message. I did not carry my cell phone with me because the battery was low. I left it at home to charge. Lori wanted to arrange a time to meet for lunch.
Moms called on Friday to let me know that the tax returns were reviewed by the AARP tax team. All looks good. By the way, my nerves were shot all week. I drank at least a half bottle of wine each evening. I have been on the verge of snapping. I am inundated by noise and crowds. Is there no end to this madness? I also ran into Pseudo-professor Jim earlier in the day. He is living in a condo for senior citizens in town. His rent is $600 per month. I have a few years to wait before I can check in to the geriatric Roach Motel.
The carpet guy came by to measure Chez Loser at 10am on Saturday. The salesputz at the store had not written my address correctly, it turned out. Fortunately, I was standing outside. The carpet guy complied with my wishes to use the existing tack strips and padding as opposed to salesputz. I was able to lower the original quote by $300 or so. I also chatted with Ron, the resident manager, just to let him know that I am putting Chez Loser up for sale. After that, I left for town on the bus. Same old shit. I ran into (former Asylum faculty) Bill along Fort Street Mall. He's back in Hawai'i, possibly to stay. He still owns the two condos here. He has spent the last year galavanting around the mainland. I have no idea where the money is coming from. Bill was surprised at the increase in home values. "I can't believe that anyone would pay $400,000 for that dump," he said, referring to his place in Kane'ohe.
An article in Saturday's paper detailed another hike in shipping fees by Matson due to fuel surcharges. This will increase the prices of many goods by at least 2.5 percent. In addition, the State's general excise tax is scheduled to go up 0.55 percent to subsidize a new (and flawed) mass transit plan. Then, there's the 40 percent increase in property tax coming up in August. I'm not sure how any of us po' folk are going to survive.
The thick bitch (hereinafter referred to as "Chubs") and and one of her friends were having a few drinks upstairs while making a lot of noise on Sunday evening. There was a lot of clucking and cackling emanating from the henhouse. The friend left at 9pm. Within minutes, someone came by to drop off Chubs' stupid kid, probably one of the grandparents. The stupid kid was running back and forth for over an hour. It sounded like a hammer pounding above me continuously.
I met moms at Kahala Mall on Monday. We ate lunch at the Panda Express as usual. The rest of the day was the same old shit. When I returned to Chez Loser at 6pm, all was quiet. Chubs returned home at 10pm and made a grand entrance of noise. Chubs ran to the bathroom, stomping all the way. Then, It sounded as though Chubs delivered street pizza. Obviously, Chubs' stupid kid was in the care of the grandparents while the thick bitch was out boozing it up. Since Chubs only work maybe one or two days per week, who pays the mortgage? The moron who stays one night every week? I doubt it. He drives a fifteen-year-old Nissan truck which has a car alarm on it that is worth more than the piece of shit itself.
The Hawai'i real estate market went under in less than three days, if you believe the newspapers. Sellers are frantically dropping their prices by $30,000 or more. Essentially, the "media" is fueling the collapse. My guess is that these "media" shills are just trying to "stir the pot." Creating a seller's panic will decrease home prices which, in turn, will spark new life into the dying real estate market. I am now at wit's end. I have no idea how I am going to unload Chez Loser if the panic intensifies. Yet, I have no choice but to stay with the plan.
Lori also sent a card in the mail. I received it on Saturday. I tried calling her a couple of times. We were finally able to connect on Tuesday. Not much said. She is still trying to get me to buy an annuity. So far, I am not sold on the idea. I know that Lori constantly tries to drum up business for her husband. And, I also know that commissions on annuities are extremely high. Lori suggested that I invest about $100,000 in some annuities. How much commission will that generate? Well, I just hope that I am not just some kind of "cash cow" to people. I'm learning that no one can be trusted when it comes to money. Caroll responded to my e-mail as well. She apparently broke her arm. No details were given.
As of the 14th of March, my local cash reserves were down to $3,500 with no infusion from any investment accounts. I was quite surprised that I had gone beyond my projection by almost three months. I will not have any choice beyond this month. However, I will have to start drawing from my investment accounts with the stipulation that I will not draw more than the monthly interest income.
I become less concerned about housing. If I sell Chez Loser, then I must find another place to live. I do not really want to live in a high-rise condo (read: mausoleum). The latter is simply a tomb for indentured wage slaves. Becoming homeless is not really a bad idea at this point. Sheesh! I contacted Debbie, my realtor, by e-mail. We are going to meet on Thursday to finalize everything in order to list Chez Loser. The time has come. Incidentally, Saturday March 18th is the two-year mark.
Well, here it is, the Ides of March. What have I got to say for myself? Not much more than the last update, I'm afraid. Time is flying by quickly. I feel as though I am simply standing around and waiting for the levée to break. There are a few relevant topics that I must discuss. I summarize these concerns below. The importance of these issues cannot be understated because they will determine my future course of action.
Helpless & Hopeless. With each passing day, I feel more and more helpless. I have become totally disconnected with society. I can barely tolerate my job as a pseudo-professor. Exactly what am I contributing to society? I am surrounded by doorknobs who will eventually add to the welfare rolls. In the meantime, they will be excellent consumers, using up all of what's left of our precious resources. One would think that higher education stimulates awareness and intellectuality. Heck, education long ago sold out to the Wal-Mart model. People, in general, have become cattle. Consume and shit. That's all they do. Then, they wander about aimlessly while using up precious resources. Or, they get in my face and make me want to go "janitorial." Remember, that's the ol' lavahead's version of going "postal." Sheesh!
The weekly magazine insert, Parade, for Sunday March 12th had an interesting article about what people earn. I found it quite interesting because the disparity in income between wage slaves and high-profile clowns (i.e., celebrities, CEOs, etc.) was made very clear. Most of us earn chump change, and most of us are heading for geriatric poverty. I became even more aware that the latter came about by design. The moneychangers maintain power over the masses. They also control the distribution of the small amount of wealth left for the lowest on the food chain. It's just enough to keep total anarchy from erupting. However, it is not enough to prevent a painful ending replete with poverty and suffering. This is the ultimate punishment for the prolétariat class as exacted by the damned bourgeois. Naturally, the cattle fool themselves into believing that they are part of the elite. Fools! These morons are petite bourgeois (read: petty bourgeois).
Living in Hawai'i is essentially what has brought me to my knees. The thin veneer of "Aloha Spirit" can barely cover up the blatant greed and corruption that permeates every aspect of life in "Paradise." At this point in time, all I want to do is live cheaply, go surfing, and visit with moms. I could really care less about anything else.
The Great Disconnect. Never before in my life have I felt so disconnected from society. I have nothing in common with anyone. I no longer have friends. People are simply acquaintances. Friendship requires a far greater commitment than hanging out. Real friendships rarely exist today. Hence, the fabric of society has long since rotted. We also know that the concept of family is long gone. What exactly keeps people connected? Proximity and consumption. That's it. My ultimate goal will continue to be my exit from society.
End of Days. It does not take a genius to see that the world is careening toward Armageddon. No matter how we try to look for any other causes, the only true culprit is Peak Oil. Currently, most of the trouble spots in the world are coincidentally in oil producing nations. The fruits of our labor are best epitomized by the civil war that is about to erupt in Iraq. Peak Oil will affect all aspects of our life-style. The whole infrastructure of modern life has been based on cheap energy. Hence, food production, transportation, housing, healthcare, monetary systems, and entertainment are critically dependent on the availabilty of cheap energy. Like a "bull charging to the slaughter," we have made increasingly high levels of wasteful consumption the key to maintaining societal order, which in turn has manifested a very sublime but powerful form of slavery. We are slaves to the system because none of us has the necessary skills and knowledge to enable true self-sufficiency. We work at moronic jobs that mainly center on the service and distribution chain of essential commodities. We are merely consumers and, hence, we know nothing about the production of anything including that of food, clothing, and shelter. We just fork out the dough and we get what we want. If and when there are major disruptions to this consumption model, there will be chaos and anarchy as has never been witnessed before in history. Imagine the effects of Hurricane Katrina on New Orleans but only on a global scale. The time of the end is coming, and we need to be prepared. Right now, all the cattle are only worried about what songs to download to their iPods. When the shit hits the fan, we cannot be anywhere near these fools. Remember, my friends, these cattle are stupid. However, it takes no skill to covet, steal, and kill.
Incidentally, I do not believe that an apocalyptic scenario in the near future is far-fetched. My guess is that the End of Days is much closer than imagined. The truth is out there, but one has to look very hard to find it. In addition, embracing the truth will harness ridicule and torment. Even so-called "educated" minds are closed to any idea which would burst their pretty balloons. Having an annuity or long-term healthcare insurance will be useless in a system overburdened by the proliferation of fat slobs. What exactly will carry over from the status quo once Peak Oil arrives?
Babe Situation and Life. So far, there has been zero negative blowback as a result of my decision to nix the babe situation. Several of my colleagues have commented that I need to find a babe. I have given them the same canned response. I am a monk, I tell them. There really is no time to play games with babes. Life as we know it is about to reach critical mass. Everything is converging on Peak Oil. That's what it's been all about all along. Wars. Energy costs. Consumer Price Index. inflation. Our whole way of life has one common denominator, that is, cheap and plentiful oil. The latter and former are assumptions that are believed to be infinite. The babe situation is simply another useless diversion. Hookin' up with a babe is meaningless in these critical times. The cattle give no mind to this. They continue to hook up and make babies. I cannot be a part of this charade. Finally, unlike Robert, I have to come to grips with the fact that I am too old. My time has come and gone. I had some interesting times with babes, but that is all history now. I need to exit society, not become more entrenched in stupidity.
April Fool's Day 2006 Update
The Ides of March was uneventful for the ol' lavahead. Chub's BoyToy returned for his weekly visit at 9pm. Chubs did not return until 10:30pm. At 11pm, there must have been an altercation. "Fuck off, you stupid cunt," yelled the clown. Within minutes, Chubs left. This is a sample of what's to come. I don't want to be there when all hell breaks loose.
On Thursday March 16th, I met with Debbie, my realtor, at the small coffee place in the Koko Marina Foodland. I finished the paperwork to list Chez Loser and discussed other logistics of the sale. After that, I visited with moms. Moms made a nice lunch. We chatted for a while. I did my workout at the gym in Koko Marina. Then, I drove to Kahala Mall. I spent a couple of hours looking around. Quite relaxing, actually.
My life has been boring as of late. When I return to Chez Loser after a grueling day in the salt mines, I just sit in my Papasan chair and watch the tube. I watched "Rush Hour 2" and an old Dirty Harry flick, "Dead Pool." "Rush Hour 2" is pretty good, actually better than the first of the series. Of course, hottie Roselyn Sanchez is starring in it. Whoa Nellie! Why can't I find a babe like Roselyn Sanchez? Did you say, "Old loser"? You know, baby kind of looks like the former friend. Saturday March 18th was the two-year mark of my ownership of Chez Loser. No fanfare. I ate a can of beans to celebrate. Rod called and left a message. He must have called my bro's place, and moms gave him the number. Caroll confirmed by e-mail that now has my new cell phone number. I doubt that I will give out the number to anyone else.
I received the bill for my car registration, a whopping $219 for nothing. I was taken aback. Naturally, I had to reach for the bottle, that is, a bottle of Diablo Creek Chardonnay. Now, couple that with the $1,000+ that I pay for car insurance. My truck is consuming a huge chunk of my disposable income, and I hardly drive it! You already know the rationale for owning the truck. However, I am beginning to see that my exit from society will be impeded by car ownership and furniture amonst other useless possessions.
Sunday brought continuous heavy rain over Kane'ohe. I ended up driving to Hawai'i Kai to go to the gym. I also went to City Mill and to Ross to see if I could find a few more useless items. Nada. I then drove to Kahala Mall to look around. I decided to drive back to Kane'ohe along the coast. I made two stops along the way at two different beaches. The first was near Makapu'u. I wanted to check out the surf conditions. Waves were flat. I then stopped off at Waimanalo Beack Park. The homeless were already congregating in the parking lot. These are the homeless who own cars, by the way. The beach itself was completely devoid of people. What a treat! I felt as if I was on a deserted tropical island. I savored every moment. I had already taken a shower. Otherwise, I would have jumped into the water.
Chub's BoyToy returned on Saturday. No doubt, he had to swallow his pride. And, for what? Da wild thing, of course! Guys will do anything for da wild thing. There was a time that I would easily succumb to the wily ways of the babes. Now, I am immune. I could care less. I have my hurdy-gurdy DVDs. That's all I need. No games necessary. Well, unless Roselyn Sanchez came around. Sheesh!
I watched Adam Sandler in the flick, "Mr. Deeds," on Sunday evening. I have to admit that the movie was pretty entertaining, mindless. I also enjoyed his performance in "Anger Management." My initial impression of him was tainted by "The Waterboy." This is how I spend my waking moments now.
Moms called on Monday to cancel lunch at Kahala Mall. The rest of the day was uneventful. When I returned to Chez Loser in the evening, I gathered more of my useless possessions (i.e., kitchen stuff, Chindi rug, etc.) to be donated to Goodwill. Oddly, I am still holding on to my Papasan chair and my small bed, even though both will be cumbersome for me to move around before the new carpet is installed.
I find it almost impossible to divest all my material possessions. We humans require so many "necessities." Even if I were to reduce my belongings to survival levels, I would still have a lot of crap. I am always reminded of this fact whenever I walk down Fort Street Mall on the way to the gym. Every day, there is a woman stationed in the vicinity of the Executive Center. She is homeless, but atypical of the stereotype. She sits on a camping chair and watches her belongings, the latter being stacked on three hand trucks. The equivalent of nine large boxes is stored under a tarp on each hand truck. The woman is dressed well and appears to have been recently displaced. A reminder that a few of us are just one step away from a similar fate.
I ended buying a bottle of fake "Hammer" at Long's on Tuesday evening. I drank half the bottle. I did not feel well after that. Chubs came home at one o' clock in the morning, now a daily event. After stomping around and slamming every door in the dump, the ho' finally went to sleep at 2am.
I met moms at Kahala Mall on Wednesday. We ate lunch at the Panda Express as usual. Later, I met up with Rob, the former Asylum IT guy, at Indigo for Happy Hour. He still has not sold his place, and he's still working on the same project for Internet Jon. In fact, his realtor is some relation to Internet Jon. I'm not sure why Rob puts so much faith in the clown. Caroll sent another terse e-mail. It seems that she is now unemployed. She broke her arm when she fell while doing some kind of decorating. She has no health insurance, so I wonder who paid the medical bill.
When I returned to Chez Loser, I sorted through my important paperwork and filed them away in a new file box that I purchased at Office Max Express on Tuesday. I was able to consolidate the crap from two plastic containers, both of which will be donated to Goodwill. I also looked through what's left of my useless possession. I found several items that I've had for many years, some of which were never used. For each of the items, I go through a sickening deliberation of whether to donate it or not. For example, I found the $10 surge protector that I had bought for my iBook (which I no longer own). It's still like new. I deliberated for days about the piece of shit. Do I want to donate it? What if I need a surge protector down the road? Do I want to spend $10 again for another surge protector? Eventually, I grow weary and donate it. I deliberately purchase the cheapest crap possible with the intention that I can divest the latter without a hitch. My DVD player and the cheap Labtech multimedia speakers are a case in point. Yet, you can imagine what I will go through when I must prune my possessions to a minimum. I still have the Papsan chair and the small bed. Why, I don't know. I will spend all of Saturday morning suffing that crap into the kitchen and bathroom so the new carpet can be installed. What's going to happen when I have to move?
I restored my monk haircut on Thursday. The babe who cut my hair did a really good job. She was a young local hottie with a mix of many ethnicities. What is interesting to note is the enthusiasm displayed by most of the people attending the Institute of Hair Design. They really enjoy what they do, and they seem so eager to learn. I noticed the contrast between them and the students that I see at Diploma Mill and The Seminary. What a difference! The Seminary had its Spring Break this week, so I have had a couple of days off. The Diploma Mill will be in session until the end of the week.
The rain started up again on Friday. Rain has besieged the islands for weeks. There has been massive flooding, and even a couple of mild tornados. The weather patterns in Hawai'i are chaning, most likely because of global warming. I ended up buying a big-ass bottle of Vendage Chardonnay at Safeway. I sipped the elixir and watched the tube for the evening.
The carpet installers arrived at 11am on Saturday. The job took a little over two hours. I spent the early part of the morning stuffing everything into the kitchen and bathroom. I walked to City Mill while the installers were at work. Then, I hung out at the park. The new carpet did wonders for Chez Loser. The place looks really nice. I spent the afternoon putting everything back. I used some carpet scraps to put under the furniture. I also fashioned a couple of mats for high traffic areas. I drank the rest of the fake "Hammer" to make the chore more appealing. At first, I was somewhat excited by the new carpet. Then, I reflected on the fact that I had paid just under $1,600 for the latter. Elation quickly turned to despondency. I also realized that I would have to contrict my life-style even further just to keep the carpet clean. And, you can imagine how many hurdy-gurdy DVDs that I could have added to my collection with that kind of dough. Sheesh!
Saturday afternoon passed in a wink of an eye. I spent even more time piddling around. At 5pm, I knew that it was too late to go to town on the bus. I almost opted to take a cold sponge bath, but I forced myself to drive to the gym in Kane'ohe. The gym was actually very nice. I did my cardio workout and took a shower. Then, I stopped off at Foodland to buy some bread and cheese. I was tempted to purchase more fire water, but I have been imbibing way too much.
On Monday, I drove to Hawai'i Kai in the morning. My bro was home because his job site was rained out. Moms wanted to visit her friend living at the other end of Hawai'i Kai, so I drove her there. We stayed for about 30 minutes. After that, we drove to Kahala Mall. We ate lunch at Panda Express. Then, we went shopping at Longs. Later, I went to the gym at Koko Marina. I bought some Guiness brewskis at Foodland such that I would have an excuse to socialize with my bro. Not something I wanted to do. Family obligation. The brewskis were costly, so I decided not to go back to Kahala Mall. I was happy that I could drive moms to see her friend. That was the high point of the day.
The Seminary was back in session on Tuesday. I had two days off last week. This week, I have three days off since the Diploma Mill is on Spring Break. The Fed raised the short-term interest rate again. My money market funds are doing quite well now.
Since I have been leaving late on my days off, I have observed that Chubs is home most of the day. She sometimes leaves at 5am which I thought was because of a job. Chubs returns home at about 8am. Chubs then take a long nap because I can hear the air conditioner in the bedroom. I leave around noon, while Chubs is still napping. From what I can tell, Chubs' parents are raising her stupid kid. The kid is only there with Chubs twice per week, thank goodness. When he is there, the stupid kid runs back and forth for hours straight. It is clear that Chubs may not even have a job. Chubs' BoyToy is not the father of the child. Chubs always makes sure that the stupid kid is not around when her BoyToy makes his conjugal visits. The whole situation smacks of entitlement, which is why Chubs is a spoiled, inconsiderate brat. Chubs also drives a new $36,000 Acura. There is no way that Chubs could afford the mortgage on a $380,000 townhouse and a car note, not while she spends all day sleeping.
On Tuesday, I took the bus to town in the afternoon to go to the gym. After my workout, I waited at the bus stop. The rain coming down hard. I spent an hour waiting. Buses were either late or not showing up. People tend to act really stupid in situations such as this. I was losing my mind. My tolerance for any irritating human quirk has reached an all-time low. I had to listen to intrusive cell phone ringtones as well as the annoying walkie-talkie feature. A fat slob sat next to me with an inability to sit still. His body was apparently trying to burn off the excess lard through extreme psychomotor agitation. When I finally returned home, I discovered that Chubs had her stupid kid spending the night. Sheesh!
On Thursday, Debbie, my realtor, picked me up after my morning class at the Seminary. We drove back to Chez Loser so that she could take pictures of the place. Chez Loser will have its first Open House on Sunday, April 2nd. I, however, have become apprehensive about my future housing situation. My problem is that I cannot envision any place as really being my home. I am not comfortable living in the tombs that people call "home." I am not far off in my assessment, mind you. In the days of old, the parlour (predecessor of the "living room"), was where the viewing of a deceased family member (in casket) took place. All I need is a place to sleep and watch my hurdy-gurdy DVDs.
I read an article in the paper about preservatives and food coloring. I became quite distressed. The crap that is added to our food is killing us. I was even more distressed when I looked at the packaging of some of the foods that I have been consuming. Quaker® granola bars contain BHT, which requires citric acid to neutralize. Here, I assumed that I was eating much healthier. I was fooling myself. These additives are deemed "safe" because we supposedly do not consume quantities large enough to unleash any carcinogenic potential. Is that really so? Look at the high incidence of cancer. For the most part, the rest of my diet seems okay. Canned salmon, tuna, and beans do not contain any of those dreadful substances. I also discovered that Nature Valley® granola bars do not contain preservatives. Life now requires us to eat defensively.
Pseudo-professor Ralph informed me that he was offered the Dean's position at HCC. I am happy for him. He spent quite a bit of time to obtain his PhD. He was demoralized for the last six months as nothing was panning out. I also heard from Professor Lisa. She has accepted the position as math coordinator for the Diploma Mill's military campus program. She is due to return to Hawai'i this Summer.
The rain started up again after a very short reprieve. So far, it has been raining for 40 days straight, according to the paper. So much for Spring Break.
Well, April Fool's Day is upon us. Of course, the only true fool is the ol' lavahead. I received my tax refunds. The $770 will be used to pay some of the cost of the carpet. I will finally start drawing from my savings in mid-April. I am hoping that Chez Loser will sell before Summer because my income will be reduced to almost nothing. This is the start of the Great Adventure. So many changes are occurring in such a small time frame. As always, you are here with me. I plan to be in semi-retirement before the year is over. I want out of this rat race.
End of Days (Reprise). These are troubled times. Not just for us as individuals, but as a collective as well. I am no longer certain whether any level of planning will be nothing more than futile. The whole world is in crisis mode. Whether we chose to believe it or not, there is now mass pandemonium. We are sheltered from the truth. The powers-that-be are attempting to buy time by using smoke and mirrors. A variety of placebos have been dispensed to the cattle to placate (read: sedate) them until the shit hits the fan. Peak Oil, consumerism, money systems, capitalism, real estate bubble, over-population, the proliferation of fat slobs ad ininitum are all tied together in an intricate web with greed and idiocy as the glue that binds each component. There is no escape. Thanks to "globalization," these maladies have spread like a tumor gone berserk. The prognosis is grim. The world is malignant.
All of that brings to mind the classic tale, "Wrong is Right." Produced in 1983, yet its subtle truths are very applicable to our time. Whatever we are being told by the mainstream pundits, gurus, sycophants, moronic colleagues and friends, experts, politicians, lawyers, whiz kids, and the like is totally incorrect. Most of these fools have bought into the "system." They have superficial wealth and, therefore, they must protect their interests. The pyramid can only be maintained if the wage slaves (read: cattle) remain stupid and follow orders. Consume and shit. Is that all there is to life? Yes! We are made to believe that we are far better off than we are. All of our pathetic tech-toys keep us "happy" and passive.
Here's an example of stupidity. We have been told for most of our lives to save for retirement. The proverbial nestegg. For the generation of senior citizens right now, that apparent axiom held true. However, what about those of us to follow? First of all, who really is saving? No one. I am bothered by the urgings of others to invest in long-term healthcare plans and other schemes. Yet, in obscure articles in the paper, I read that long-term care facilities are currently at capacity. Future projections show that there will be a severe shortage of healthcare accomodations when the first of the baby boom generation retires. And, HMOs are constantly reporting financial doom and gloom. How many of the exisitng HMOs will be solvent in the future? If Peak Oil were to come about, then there will be a real problem. It is technology which keeps most of the hospitalized population alive. Technology requres tremendous amounts of energy. Long-term healthcare insurance will be useless in that scenario. What? Peak Oil is simply a paranoid myth, you say. Or, it's way off in the future. Science will find an answer. The latter and the former are the kind of bullshit repeated by the sycophants of the "system." Don't worry, be happy. That is the way the cattle think.
Mike Ruppert of From the Wilderness summed it up:
From FTW's perspective, as we have said so consistently, until we change the way money works, solutions to Peak Oil, food shortages, collapse and sustainability remain unreachable from a national or cultural level because it is simply more profitable to let people die and accelerate collapse through excessive consumption than it is to behave like a species that wishes to survive.
As you can assume, I've become totally disillusioned with the "system." I could easily turn the journal into a platform for progressive thought. However, that will not be the case. My short bursts into the stream of consciousness are only to keep me on track. We are all accustomed to thinking and believing that "we will cross that bridge when we come to it." The bridge just never seems to come, so we become extremely lax. Vigilance turns to apathy. In the Good Book, Armageddon is said to be coming "like a thief in the night." Nightfall is now upon us. How long will we continue to slumber in a stupor? The old adage, "You can run, but you can't hide," is more apropos than ever. There is nowhere to go. The "system" has been assimilated into every nook and cranny of society at large.
Zipper Day 2006 Update
Debbie, my realtor, had notified me by e-mail that my first showing would be today, April Fool's Day. Chubs had her stupid kid there. The little turd was up at 8am. He spent most of the morning running back and forth. I was becoming quite unnerved because a realtor and her clients was due at 10am. They arrived on time. Somehow, Chub's stupid kid stopped running around. Chubs was also making a lot of noise (read: slammin' soirée). I was ready to launch into a homicidal rage, especially if the fucking idiots screwed up a potential sale. I met the realtor's clients, a father and daughter duo. I swear that this story is true. I looked at the daughter. Her name was Cindy, and she had a striking resemblance to Shirley. Her father's name was Calvin, which is Shirley's father name. In fact, he looked exactly like Shirley's father. I believe that he recognized me as well, although neither of us said anything to that effect. I knew that Shirley's sister was supposed to move back into their parents' home after the latter's divorce. She was supposed to settle the property in common. I would assume that she came into some money. Wouldn't it be funny if Shirley's sister ends up buying Chez Loser and living there? After they departed, Chub's stupid kid was running back and forth again. It sounded like someone pounding on my ceiling continuously with a large mallet. I finally left for town at 11am.
My Open House on Sunday was a bust. It started raining at noon. By the time 2 o' clock rolled around, there was a severe thunderstorm underway. Obviously, no one came by. So, the Open House was a done deal within an hour. I drove to Hawai'i Kai to escape the rain. The weather was quite pleasant out there. The sinister kahuna once again toyed with the oversized cranium. I was in a real bad way until after my workout at the gym in Koko Marina. The drive back to Kane'ohe was nice. The rain had apparently stopped. I am finding that once something sets me off, I remain in a bad way for a long time. I am certain that I am rapidly approaching the threshold of sanity.
Moms called Monday morning to change our usual plans to meet at Kahala Mall. Last week, the place was flooded after a retaining wall gave way. Instead, I met moms at Zippy's in Kaimuki. We ate Zippy's famous Chili and Rice. Then, we both caught the bus to Kahala Mall. Moms transferred to the bus heading out to Hawai'i Kai. I waved good-bye and walked across the street to catch my bus back to town.
Moms decided to volunteer to spend more time out in the church ministry. Moms said that it will help her to not spend too much money as well. Moms will only have Monday free. I was concerned that moms would be fatigued from the grueling schedule. However, moms was adamant. I suspect that moms is also trying to find a way to stay away from the house. The place is a complete mess. My bro and his family continue to amass more and more useless crap. Moms has expressed how the mess drives her crazy. There is crap stacked up everywhere. The den is back to being a warehouse. It is so full of crap that there is only a small pathway to navigate to the lanai and to the laundry area.
I was notified by Debbie's office that two realtors wanted to bring their clients by Chez Loser on Tuesday and Wednesday in the afternoon. I gave my approval. Every time there is a showing scheduled, I must stuff everything into the closets and cupboards in the morning to make the place presentable. Since my LCD widescreen tube normally sits on the floor, I must also stuff it and the DVD player in the closet. When repeated over and over again, this process gets old fast. Fortunately, my shipment of new hurdy-gurdy DVDs arrived on Monday. Man, where do the producers get such fine ass babes to perform in those hurdy-gurdies? Why can't the ol' lavahead find babes like that? Sheesh!
To be continued ... Go to E.31
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