the nines

just shoot me

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I am very low on yang.

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I was too tired to fight about it. Just an itsy prob with the hormones here, dudes, and you have NO idea how hard it is to wade through images to find the good enough approximation for you. Maaaaan, people out there have them some uuuuughly feet! I keep worrying about my appalling state of deterioration... until I look at some of that action. Anyway, the impostor gleefully dimpled my ankles and shins to see just HOW swollen this really is and, fine, I got some goddam water pills and fingerprints to tide me over till I can get to the actual doctor.

No, the naturopathic stuff isn't working. [String of filthy epithets here....]

I guess I'm going to be in Stinson for Thanksgiving... make Billy stuff me before I have to go back to making my size sixes fit again. I swear, I think I should just get a bullhorn on a rope so I can keep it handy to be HEARD. Meantime, I guess I better find a way to get my feet up until I start peeing....

another thought for today

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I am having to go see the impostors this afternoon and I don't know if I can stay awake. If I go to sleep, I will miss it. If I miss it, I might not make it. If I don't miss it, I might not make it.

thought for the day

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I love to study.

big trouble at unit two

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It seems it's in danger of exploding. It seems it may already have exploded. It seems TEPCO is keeping it down with boron. It seems they might not have gotten to it soon enough. It seems that something dire is about to happen, or has happened and we'll find out about it next spring, at Daiichi Number Two.

more than skin deep

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Good girl.

barney fife was a good cop

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Somebody tell David DeGraw to grow a pair and go speak to the cops at their stations. Somebody tell Mike Ruppert that cops are NOT "warriors".

AND THEY'RE OVERLOOKING THAT POLICE MAY NOT BE PAID BY THE PEOPLE MUCH LONGER.

Fuck.

morris goes to see judy wood

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And brings us along.

every word a razor blade

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Maybe I'm just too darn sensitive... or something... but each word here is making me wince in pain. My galaxies are colliding in here. There is the sound of the death agonies of creatures long extinct. The wish for this boil to burst, to splat all over the baying hounds of hell, send them whimpering in mortification back to their sewers, floats off something starboard from here. What could be done about these people? Are they even mortal?

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And THIS.

we have to find out who you are before we give you that squeegee

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You can't just say you're good and get cleaning....

impeccable timing

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Wot?

as you know

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I am way not a Michio Kaku fan. I think he is a sellout, a witting purveyor of bunk physics who enjoys his PR status as a sort of descendent of Einstein. I'm extremely unhappy about the withholding of the full truth from the public, and he is a major force for the enforcement of that.

HOWEVER, here he exhibits his ability to be truthful and with the proper amount of vehemence. So... dare we hope he will finally be frightened enough, ashamed enough, desperate enough to begin to undo the harm he's helped hold us down?

comforting

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I like to think this.

In her eulogy, Steve Jobs’ sister Mona Simpson described Jobs’ final moments in a Palo Alto hospital, which was spent surrounded by family as his breathing gradually became shorter.

His breath, she said, “indicated an arduous journey, some steep path, altitude.”

Delivered at the 16 October service for Jobs at Stanford Memorial Church, Simpson began by describing her initial meeting of her brother for the first time when she was in her mid-20s. Simpson was born in 1957, two years after Jobs, who was given up for adoption as an infant.

“Even as a feminist, my whole life I’d been waiting for a man to love, who could love me. For decades, I’d thought that man would be my father. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother,” Simpson said.

Simpson went on to describe her strong relationship with the man known for revolutionizing the computer world, explaining Jobs’ work ethic and capacity for love — particularly for his wife Laurene and as a doting father to their three children.

“Steve was like a girl in the amount of time he spent talking about love. Love was his supreme virtue, his god of gods. He tracked and worried about the romantic lives of the people working with him,” she said.

In describing his illness from pancreatic cancer, which Jobs was diagnosed with in October 2003, Simpson paints a picture of Jobs as an enduring, “intensely emotional man.”

She concluded her eulogy by sharing Jobs’ final moments, which were spent staring lovingly at his family, and his final words as he then stared into the distance past their shoulders: "OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW."

I hope it's true.