what is it?

no time?... of course there is no time, at least not enough time, especially when you choose to fill your life with stuff that leaves no time for the other stuff...

no one in the real daily life who really cares?... of course, that is what happens when you choose the suprficial and/or you choose to build walls, traps, mirrors, and every or any other diversions to avoid real intimacy, true trusting sharing, and honest love...

did i do that?... of course, and excused because you've been burned enough to justify doing it doesn't change the fact that it's done...

trapped?... of course, so not that you know...

what are you gonna do about it?...

another meaningless complaint?

ego's complaint

not to reference portnoy at all, not that i want to diminish his complaint, whatever it was, because everybody's got the right to complaint, after all (and you, yes you there, the one who found this post by searching for portnoy's complaint for some book report or whatever, yes you, you have the right to complain too, unless you plaig... plageriz... pla... cut and paste this witty missive into your report, in which case, you did it to yourself so you have nothing to complain about)...

but naturally, ego's complaint is you might be the only one who ever finds all the wonderful words and nonsense i've put on line and written for years, since the dawn of time, even, and i don't have any sort of massive following of crazed fans twittering and tossing underwear (or their cookies, chocolate chip please) at their computers as if i could see (hey, turn on your webcams before you do that sort of thing, aye?) all about how wonderfully in love they are with my amazing cleverness and lovely way with words...

i don't have time for the time it takes to grow an audience of nubile young innocents and their mothers of text phone junkies who worship the written word (i had more written word worshippers in the eighties before al gore and rocky invented the internet, after all)...

i mean, i'm not craig ferguson, but i do have a quip or two worth noticing now and then... and ego, of course, believes i should have millions of ranting and raving fans waking each morning to rush over to their computers just to see what i might have written overnight...

seriously, where are the intelligent people who would recognize the priceless value of reading me?...

caprica

the saddest thing about caprica might be that they are eventually going to glorify the judeo-christian-muslin god after introducing the concept of a monotheistic god with sarcastic scorn in phrases like ”a moral dictator called god” blamed for leading kids to terrorist acts and instead of seeing the truth in the words, people will praise the glorification of that very moral dictator concept that has been the root cause of more death and destruction in this world than any other human-made concept in the history of human-kind…

or is the attraction to the show the titillating concept of a seductively pliable fifteen year old girl touched innocently (and often) because she is in a robot body and nobody knows she is really in there as they admire her chest and tinker with her crotch… while in a simultateous scene another teenage girl is repairing a motorbike while semi-flirting with a adult-looking teenage boy who’s job it was to fix that bike and the engine goes vroom vroom as they innocently touch hands and smile…

or perhaps the child will lead us concept as the carrot is that the same nubile fifteen year old innocent dancing seductively with a boy without him or anyone seeing her (because she's trapped in a robot and nobody knows, of course) actually has some secret answer that even she doesn't know quite yet... could it be the secret to immortality as she has figured out a way to put human's mind and personality (and don't forget spirit and soul) into a robot?... oooo, back to the whole moral dilemma thing again, aye?)...

or is the attraction the oldest moral dilemma of all (in modern recorded history, that is, i mean, since the jewish bible started), the old ways against the new ways as a very jewish appearing race is made out to be poor hard working hard core eye-for-an-eye religiously superstitious, secretive, and organized-crime powerful while the white-bread waspy-looking actual rich power brokers of the culture are clueless as to their money-changing corruptions and lead of moral fiber as they take technology into a virtual world where anything goes because there is no responsibility because ot the presumptious that nothing is real and nobody really gets hurt and nobody really dies…

but did they really have to made the eastern-indian looking kid the innocent misguided mad bomber?... and it’s ok, right, because he believed in the one-god concept… and do they have to play on the stereotype of the outrageously emotionally driven thoughtless acts of bereaving mothers only to make those same mothers some sort of heroes by convoluting their actions and slithering version of love into ridiculously unrealistic gestures of generosity that somehow make their stupidity and rash actions ok?...

I wonder how long I’ll want to know how the story turns out before I get too bored or simply too repulsed by the ignorance underlying the messages behind the story… and laughing, naturally, I wonder how many of you follow anything i've said here...

I suppose I need to know more about battlestar gallactica now, though the same sour taste that I could not pinpoint turned me off to that story after watching it for a little while… and suddenly i have this powerfully giggling errily puzzling secretly smiling deja-vu feeling... irony?...

or course I don’t recall the fifteen year old girl angle in that one…

yeah, smirk and giggle and narf as I use libido to keep my own attention while mocking and perhaps even condescending to those who do, or something like that, aye? :)

barf? lol :)

no time to complain

yes, there's plenty to complain about, but there's no time to complain, so that's the complaint, no time to complain, ironic?... you'll just have to visit the archives for more meaningless complaints if you want to read more meaningless complaints because tonight, and recently, and most of the time, there's no time to complain, dangit, no time to complain...

blog names

the irreverence of the title of this blog may have been tainted by an entry or two along the way cuz it is possible that an occasional meaningful complaint might slip out of my head and that in itself may be fodder for a future complain as valid as any, but on the other hand, with even the most profoundly meaningful complaint or story or thought or anything, if nobody ever reads it, how meaningful can it be... rhetorical questions aside, this complaint is about the shameless waste of great blog names...

imagine, if you will, a blog named IMAGINE... seriously, would that not be a perfectly exquisite challenge for anyone interested in writing a blog?... especially a blog that has some imagination...

imagination, you say?... you see, it seems that back in 2000 when blogger began, some clever kids stopped by with the idea of creating a blog and they scooped up some of the absolutely most bestest blog names and then, NEVER USED THEM...

yes, shouting in bold, this obviously strikes the blogger's nerve...

people come along and kill great ideas and leave them for others to trip over, like so many dead bodies on the web, and we can do nothing with the corpses except ignore them...

later, i may expand on this as i am searching for some blog names for new blogs (yes, more new blogs... cuz every idea deserves a blog, even the not so great ones... thing is, the idea and the blog must CONTINUE dangit... unless, of course, the blog writer dies and did not make arrangements for anyone to have the password to continue, or at least pass the blog on to someone who wants to continue)...

NEW RULE!... in order to create a blog, every blogger must create an entry scheduled for five years in the future... that entry must contain the bloggers current and valid user name and password to that blog... if the scheduled date is approaching and the blogger is still alive and active, the scheduled date should be changed to another future scheduled date so that when the blogger does finally die or abandon the blog name, another can continue the blog or use the name (under stipulation that the previous incarnation of blog with that name is preserved in archives)... yes, this is the first rule of blogging in the universe...

i'll let you know when my universe opens...

worse than wasting the name are the bloggers who did not leave comments on when they abandoned their blogs... so no one can leave a comment encouraging them to use the blog or beg for transfer of the name to someone (like me) who wants to use the name... shameful waste, typical of humans who must have the lowest level of insight and forethought, not to mention awareness, conscious or not, and imagination, of any sentient species in any universe (though the vogons and a few others could possibly have humans beat in some areas)...

yes, even the promising title musings from the imagine nation (circa 2004) is empty, a clear sign of the void between human ears (you do see how this particular complaint can rant on indefinitely and grow into a series of books based on the foibles and carelessness of bloggers, no less writers and nomenclature specialists (and amateurs) everywhere, don’t you?… shhhhh, don’t tell anyone cuz they’ll steal the idea and make millions and not even thank me with a based on the idea by… credit or a percentage of the gross… so I hereby and forthwith copyright all creative writes to the concept, idea, thought, and any tangible production of the flow of words that could be based on (however loosely) this initial complaint (this claim to rights is all inclusive, that is to including book, magazine, graphic novel, film, movie, internet, ebook, music, painting and art in any medium, and bathroom reading rights and not excluding any rights that I did not list here)…

meanwhile, back in the stupid waste of great blog name wars (not to be confused with star wars, which I lay no claim to), even the unknown bianca (who I do not believe to be a breath freshening product), left the modified imagine-nation (the hyphen has saved many a great blog name from obscure death) to fallow and squander in oblivion since 2005… what may be an even more frightening sign of the emptiness between human ears is that I was just the twelfth (yes, 12th) person even looking to use the blog name since it was so carelessly killed by the one simply known as bianca…

it just gets worse the more you look… even the precious name imagina (which has so many wondrous {and devious} possibilities on so many levels, even if your name is not gina) was absconded back in 2001 by a spaniard! no less (or at least someone writing in what appears to be some sort of Spanish looking language), which was clearly a warning from the princess bride not headed in the blogosphere by jules rimet, IF that is his real name and photo (and don’t let his name fool you, he is obviously a spaniard by any measure of the imagina) so brazenly flaunting his minimal use of the name (not to mention his obvious distain for any english speaking audience in his deliberate choice to avoid using the blogger translation feature)… of course if there is cleverness sprinkled through his few hundred entries he might be forgivable, especially if he is still living and willing to turn over the great name to someone who can make sufficient mockery use of it… but since he almost commits the criminal sin of abandonment without linkage or commentary (note the broken link in the most recent entry), forgiveness might take some groveling, naturally, however I did find a sneakily hidden link to comments just above the title of his entries that allowed me to leave a comment (which I courteously translated into Spanish for him using free translator service which is part of the wonderful free language services offered by itools.com, proud sponsor of meaningless complaints, this free complaint blog you are reading, even if they don’t know it yet, even if you are not reading it yet)… not to mention the double and triple entendres, aye?...

yes, I know…

and now, like any good dog chasing it’s tail, or tale, for that matter, we’ll leave imaginea alone for the moment (in spite of the brazen theft of the name of my home continent, but that’s another story... i was at least able to simply leave a comment, though in what language i'd have had to translate it, well... as i said, we'll leave these complications for another time), though surely goodness and mercy and more is bound to follow in this theme, at the moment I will upload this entry and move along to the next distraction in my adhd journey through life, liberty, and the pursuits of whatever comes along…

may we enjoy our complaints, for at times, they are all we have…

death, human view

fear of death has long plagued the human psyche, diminishing potential of even the most powerful human minds and along with other fears, may be the root cause for all that ails the human from war to disease to depression to divorce to whatever ails you... excuse me if i laugh at the serious morbidity of the human perspective, but it is how i see it when i am not sad for the limits people place on their own minds, imagination, perception, and understanding... anything is possible, so it is possible that all human fears are valid and all the worst nightmares told by boogiemen and religions and scientists and soothsayers may come true someday and i say, so what... why let any of it interfere with the experience of this moment in it's full potential?... no reason that makes sense to me not to, so i hope you do... if you don't want to (or believe you can't) overcome your fears and want to further the discussion of death and possible futures, here's biocentrism, which looks a lot like egocentrism to me, but then, i am not considered one of the leading scientists in the world... narf...