The Drums and Pink Floyd both wrote songs called Money, but only one of them is an actual song.

I reached a personal benchmark with my savings. It took a long time, and it didn’t help that I had to pay out of pocket for a trip to the ER in January. If I hadn’t had to pay for that, I would have reached my goal sooner.

I think that, essentially, I feel comfortable paying 30 dollars for lunch. And in general, I think having money frees you from having some anxiety that comes with being middle aged. It’s a package deal, and it’s impossible to opt out of the add ons.

I didn’t have any anxiety when I was poor and young, because we didn’t have TikTok or something like that. It’s unbelievable to me that someone that’s not from a war ravaged country can be 20 and depressed. Just my experience of course. I think I was pretty lucky getting to be a teen in the 90’s. I just didn’t know how lucky until I got some glaring context. If I was young now in this economy? Would not be drug free right now.

I just woke up from a vivid dream. It was sort of like that dream I had about Satan dive-bombing into New York, which came to me a few months before 9/11. I wouldn't say that I'm the next Nostradamus, since that would be pathologically insane, but let's see if I'm right twice.

Last time, I told two people about that first dream I had about The Big Apple. This time, I'll leave this here for posterity.

(Warning: Characters in this dream are creamy white, chronically poor members of MAGA, so this is unfortunately another political entry. I didn't put them in my subconscious, but they appeared. Skip this vision if you think it'll make you lose sleep)

There was this massive tsunami that was coming in from the ocean. Everyone was scrambling inland. At first, it didn't look like anyone was going to take advantage of the situation. Then the scene narrowed to two Mexican children, both of them siblings. A third child, also Mexican (or Puerta Rican, I'm not sure), started antagonizing the smaller of the two. The older sibling started defending him against the bully, and drove him off. Then I saw all of these half destroyed homes on the shoreline. People had abandoned them. I saw some of the survivors returning, but these wispy hill people in tattered clothes had swarmed in and were going from house to house, rummaging through everyone's belonging and going around saying that they were "kicking all the blue voters out of their homes."

I woke up and I thought of ICE and the mass deportations. Basically, my sleep addled mind surmised that the end result of snatching people out of their homes and removing them is so they can replace them with members of MAGA.

Now, the difference between these two dreams is the 9/11 one came to me unabated/unprovoked. I hadn't the slightly suspicion that anything bad was going to happen in New York, let alone if there would be a world changing event. And as an aside, I never had a premonition of Covid 19. This nightmare could've easily been the result of being chronically online.

Just in case it isn't, I think that basically what I was seeing and hearing was that there won't be another election. If there is, Trump will seem to easily win, or JD Vance. It isn't totally inconceivable. After Kirk's death, Trump used it to whip up support with his base, who agree with quite literally anything he says or does. They aren't unlike people that like to watch documentaries that are narrated by Obama, only this time, these sycophants want blood, not to mandate vaccines. Well... maybe not literal blood, but they want property and political dominion. No more two party system. They want their country to be like other places where there is a monotheistic religion, a streamlined national identity, and a governance that exercises total control over its populace. Think of the day when Trump's base can finally publicly lynch brown Republicans. Heck, white Republicans too, like Pence. Anyone that doesn't kiss the ring goes up against the wall, all that.

Is it unlikely? Can white Christian nationalists gaslight me into thinking it's not happening, because Jimmy Kimmel is back on the air? What's the most unbelievable about the dream is the current administration rehousing poor white people, given that they're needy... oh... the residents that are vacated won't be replaced by the devout. The neighborhoods will be "cleaned up" and gentrified. They'll be replaced by "fiscally responsible" Dems and Pubs. MAGA is detritus, much like lower class blue voters. Affluent Dems know how to be unwavering in their devotion. They shout online and they put BLM signs in their manicured yards, but they don't stage attempted coups and they don't form militias. ICE isn't targeting brown people; they're going after the destitute. Hu, maybe there will be another election after all.

I can't be sure, of course. It was just another strange vision. I could've had it because I had a waffle for dinner. But ICE is in my backyard, teargassing kids in inflatable frog suits. They're teargassing cops in Chicago, and themselves, according to some reports. From my perspective it's still surreal because each day when I drive through Portland and Beaverton, I don't see any of it. I get out of my car and conversate and exchange commerce and no one is saying anything. I haven't seen one single public meltdown or a call to arms. I don't know where the ICE facilities are, but I'm not curious enough to find out. It's like nobody wants this. Nobody wants ICE and they also don't want protesters. They weren't troubled by theoretical gang violence, but the trouble started when ICE tried to remove them.

... how did Obama get away with removing so many alleged illegals. How did he do it... it's like he did it quietly and professionally and undetected. He probably didn't even say he was going to do it. That would have been really dumb. I wouldn't mind a dictator like that. An austere, shrewd, unflappable dignitary that understands that his base doesn't appreciate being bothered. The antithesis of that would be something like Putin or Trump. Like, you already have it all. You are immune. Can you please try to not steer the ship into an iceberg. Fix the roads. Your security is a happy public, not an unhappy one.

Unfortunately, federal agents have arrived in my hometown. Well, Vancouver is my actual hometown. You need to cross a wide river to get to where I am, if you're in P Town. Or you need to take the I5, which I don't recommend unless traffic is your fetish.

I'm not an apologist for ANTIFA, but I would really rather not have Trump's goons stirring up the beehive. As much as I was horrified by the 100 days of riots during the BLM movement, I was more worried about the unmarked white vans that started popping up. Men in tactical gear, unidentifiable, started picking up kids in black hoodies. I guess these guys would be about as close to being secret police as you can get, judging by what they looked like. Some conservatives spoke up and said they thought the men in white vans were essentially criminals.

Again, any goofball radical throwing bricks at government buildings or a Nikes store should be arrested, but sending troops to do it is a gross misuse of power, as is seizing control of Oregon's national guard. ICE employees are never going to concede that their conduct and tactics are highly, highly disagreeable, to put in mildly. ANTIFA would be the inverse, though. Both of them wear masks, because they know what they're doing is unethical. And, quite honestly, inconvenient as all get out.

Referring to MAGA, I personally am not afraid of immigrants or bums at large. I, on occasion, make broad sweeping generalizations about them, but at the end of the day, all I really care about is anyone's deportment. You can have zero legal documents, but if you are a lawful human being that is not an asshole, I do not care about your status. In fact, if you're also polite and thoughtful? You are just another one of us poor sons of bitches that is trying to not end up on the street. Trump is literally destroying this country, right now. Stop telling AMERICAN woman what they can and can't do with their bodies. And, ultimately, stop causing traffic jams with your virginal crypto trading gym rats. You are fascists.

Referring to ANTIFA, stop getting Trump reelected. Yes, some police officers are former members of the KKK and some of them have murdered black Americans and they've gotten away with it. Justice was not served. There's a healthy contingent of White Christian Nationalists that want to rewrite the Constitution so that it isn't a secular document. Some of them are hypnotized zombies, for sure, but mandating vaccines and ostracizing people that are "problematic" serves as a recruitment tool. You want to "un" recruit them. Not admitting your own mistakes, like electing the Deporter in Chief or being just as addicted to shopping at Amazon as any other capitalist or just as bigoted towards whites as a counterbalance or trying to take everyone's right to own guns away, is also counter intuitive... if you still want a Messiah, his name is Daryl Davis. Davis talks to white supremacists. He opens up his sexy little heart and then a dialogue starts. And then sometimes, these guys throw out their robes. It's not easy to do, but if Charlie Kirk's wife can forgive his killer, you can try to nut up and do the same.

It's so maddeningly simple to me. Stop hurting other people and trying to control them. It's like, in my mind, you could color Putin's hair pink and replace a few of the nouns and it's the same problem.

I was lying back down to get more sleep this morning and I realized I haven't been sick in about 6 years. I'm not entirely sure, though. It could be 7 years, or 8, even. I just know I haven't been bedridden as far back as 2020. Specifically I'm referring to any kind of influenza. I suppose COVID was a type of influenza, and while I've never been diagnosed or had a test come up positive, I'm sure I contracted it at least a few times. But the symptoms I experienced were as subtle as déjà vu, so I would tend not to count them. If I did include my self-diagnosis of COVID, sure, then I haven't gone without being sick for a minimum of 6 years. I'm not qualifying it, though. COVID was like getting a day old cough or a throat tickle, only less so. I'm talking about needing-water/sleep-and-Thai-food sick. It worries me that I haven't been under the weather for so long. It's just superstition, granted, but I don't know if I'll be able to handle it next time. I mean, the flu can and does kill people. I get it at least once a year, always have. I think, what if my nose gets so stuffy I can't sleep? I already have mild back pain and tinnitus. Can I achieve REM through all that? Sometimes it feels like it's a miracle that I can fall asleep as is. I guess I could take CBD or THC, but I've been off that bullshit for months now, and I like being slightly more cognizant (I'll take what ever I can get). Maybe I got routinely unwell before the pandemic because I was near constantly around people and doing things. There was plenty more opportunities for me to come down with something, because the chances of catching a bug from another person was way, way higher. But Jesus, I'm not capable of going back to that kind of living, even if I wanted to. Today, I think I'm missing that first 6 months of the shutdowns. They were utterly surreal, but also peaceful. The mandated isolation destroyed the lives that it saved, but it is safer to not be around anyone, if I'm being a valetudinarian.

That's probably all that it is: I'm not hanging out in moldy basements with transients, wading through detritus and poor hygiene and secondhand smoke. Live by the squalor, die by the squalor, etc. I still wonder if, in some holistic sense, I need the dirt and the occasional virus so I can stay fit. I'm leagues away from scientifically understanding my immune system, but it's got me this far with almost nil professional intervention (last January I overdosed on pot and caffeine and when I was 19 I needed stitches), and considering my long, lucky streak, it could just be that I've been missing my annual doses of influenza because I've mostly been inside.

Last night I had this extremely vivid dream of the Westfield Mall. I parked in front of what I assumed was Nordstrom, but there wasn't a sign. I walked in and spent most of the day window shopping and buying 5 pairs of blue Levi's jeans. They were amazingly soft and expensive. I think I spent close to $200 on them, but that didn't matter. I ended up staying at the mall until they closed, and then I get swept up in this sea of vacating shoppers. It's dark out (of course, it's December) and of course I can't find my car! Only... I suppose the story has changed, and it isn't my car that I'm looking for, but my aunt's, which I borrowed. Her vehicle is newish and white. I'm racing up and down the parking rows, using the handheld remote to honk the horn, like a bat using echolocation. But everyone is doing this!

I can't find my car (I know, dude where's my car), despite the parking lot being nearly empty, and I end up losing my god damn new pants too. The whole time I was running around, I was anxiously picking at the controller, so now the label is half peeled off and scuffed. It's eventually morning, and my uncle and his son show up and now I've recruited them to help me find my aunt's whip. Though for some reason they're more interested in going into the mall, so I follow them in there and it's completely different. If you've been to a mall in the morning, it's very calm, and it's mostly senior citizens getting in their early morning steps. I told my uncle that this is a violent contrast to what this place looked like last night, and he laughed. We never found my pants, while bars of silver sunlight illuminated the shopping space.

As I wrote before, no celebrity or politician or CEO should be assassinated by anyone with weak ideas, at least not here. That kind of behavior should be reserved for other places that are given to barbarism that results from fear of opposition and diversity.

All that said, it still does happen here, sadly. It’s surreal sometimes, because I don’t always experience it directly.

Another thing that’s surreal is trying to understand why anyone, regardless of their affiliation, would listen to or pay any kind of attention to someone like Charlie Kirk. I knew of him, but I never watched any of his videos. He was just another political agitator. He was like Kanye West to me. Never heard any of his music, but I heard that other people talked about him.

All I really know is that he was a father and a champion of MAGA sycophants. And even then, that’s all just public information. He could have been a trans man with an inflation fetish for all I really know. But it was wrong and horrifying that he was killed. To his fans, I’m sure it was saddening, and to his critics, there’s plenty of them sneering from the sidelines.

I’ve always had a purpose, but later in life, I think that what that is is different from person to person. It’s impressed upon me that a swath of westerners are seeking advice from human and artificial gurus, wondering at what it is that motivates them.

But I really think that’s very probably crazy. It’s like believing that you need someone else to tell you what your favorite song is.

It’s true that the human experience is performative and that having high marks is pleasing, but an objective successful life is only one type of purpose. If it’s the only thing you want, if it’s the only thing that’ll do, then you know that you don’t need somebody to tell you. If you don’t care how you get it, be comforted in knowing that you’re not alone.

But really, I just think that these are things that are comparative, and it’s a very common thing that we all subconsciously think of and do. Compared to some people, I have a lot of money. Compared to some people, I afford some decadence and luxury, some kind of impression of those things. But it’s not everybody’s purpose to be better. It’s only some unknown percentage of people that prioritize that. And for them, that is one of their purposes.

What we all have in common, though, is that our desires are self evident. No guru is required. In many instances, the move towards self actualization is unconscious. Gurus are either con artists or self-aggrandizing hucksters that are taking advantage of people that are sad and lonely. They should not be confused with educators or instructors.

A purpose is intrinsically who you are. It’s not something that you slip on. It’s what your clothing, what you dress up. To be less esoteric, it’s a physical living body that experiences sustainable and/or unsustainably pleasure. Have said many times before that I’m an epicurean man, because his philosophy was irrefutable. From the monk to the gamer, from the climber to the cook, you see them whittled down to a demented bum when they are without pleasure, without love from others and for the self. You look out at the world and you hate, hate, hate it, and no one is attracted to that. No one really cares to be around that.

You have nothing to give, and serving and giving of yourself is one of the rare sacred pleasures that some Christians try to own. Though, if all you want to do is take, if that’s your purpose, then it is not necessarily “bad.” Some people want power over others, to control them and to instill fear in them. These people are valuable because struggle creates strong people. It’s probably frightening to think about, when you picture boot lickers and fascists, but know that they are sad and angry, and they need help. Steel yourself, but do not give in to temptation.

So as said many times before, give without motive. Well, there’s a motive and that’s the pleasure you’ll derive from it, but let that be the only thing. Be selfishly generous, if you need a tagline from another huckster.

Today, of all days, is my ever returning birthday. I actually thought, What if I wrote some poetry today? Nah, italics should suffice. It isn't that I don't like poetry, as I've often said. It's just that I don't understand it and I don't know how to write it properly. It's like algebra. But yes, I'm 46. I think I'm going to make it to 50! 60? 60 I'm less sure about, and I also have been getting mysterious tummy aches lately. It could be cancer, or very large dry dark turds. It subsides a bit when I stop eating cheese, so hopefully it's just that.

I've liked my forties, but I still think my thirties were the best. In your forties you're a little more confident and less concerned with what other people think or how they perceive you, but that budding ease is already manifesting when you hit 30, and 30 is like your 20's physically. I might experience one or two new aches or creaks, but they aren't persisting. You are old, but young-old. You're tired, but you still don't need coffee, and you have only a few lines on your face and you're stylish and to everyone a decade or more older than you, you look like you're 25.

40's are just blown out. You are officially geriatric, but you're a young geriatric. You're limber and you probably exercise and you might even still be dangerous, if you were a gym rat in your former life. The only things that get better with age, I think, is your prose and your grasp of who you are and what is valuable and what isn't. You're circles get smaller because you're old, ugly, sick and dying, yes, but they also recede because you waste less and less time with unnecessary efforts you used to put into former relationships. I definitely tried way harder to stay in more peoples' lives when I was in my thirties. Now I just... I don't know, really love who I talk to and who I think of as friends. They're very lovable, or I love them more, something to that effect. Basically I think I'm even better at finding and marveling at exceptional, beautiful, talented characters. I'm kind of prideful of it. Maybe a little narcissistic, even. I just know how to pick 'em better than ever. Galen in his 30's would have still been bogged down. He would have been a hot mess with less poop in his tummy, but I remember the people he used to like, and they fucking sucked.

For my birthday, I want one of those electronic massaging devices that press against your lower back. Oh god that would be dangerously addicting. Or if I could afford it (I can, but I would never spend that much on a toy), an entire massaging chair. I tried one at a former friend's house. It blasts all of the back of you, from your neck to your calves. Just heavenly. I am not exaggerating. This really is what it's like to physically be in your forties. Your back hurts and you have to spend a year recovering from a torn rotator (you get a palindrome for my birthday and I get nothing, hmph) cuff. You officially need to stretch in the morning. No, seriously, if you're in your twenties or thirties right now and you're reading this, stretch. Get limber. It's free exercise and it helps with your circulation. I'm not asking you to run or lift weights. Things like that lead to injuries, but stretching helps you PREVENT injuries. That is my pearl of wisdom, that and cut back on the cheese.

CHOP was, I’m sure most of us can agree, terrifying. Anarchists barricaded off a block in Seattle and held it for days, and it became a fatal pocket of lawlessness.

But wouldn’t it be even more horrific if the military was organized and imposed its agenda in a city. It’d be like CHOP, but we’re paying for it. It’s not just disgusting what Trump is doing in DC. It’s an unexplored display of Presidential powers. It’s the unmarked vans in Portland during the riots, boldfaced.

Haven’t seen any protests or riots in said city, and I drive through it 5 days a week.

Was just thinking… I can’t understand why people that don’t live in cities want so much to control them. Or they’re so concerned with the culture there, as if people in cities cared about what people living in rural areas did with their lives. I mean… if crimes are being committed out in the sticks, of course we like to think someone would do something about it. But it wouldn’t be us. And if we did, we wouldn’t send unmarked vans with masked law-enforcement.

Yesterday, while was switching from a solo campaign (for Baldur’s Gate 3) with no mods to a co-op campaign with mods, I accidentally activated the mods while I was in my solo campaign. Once you enable mods in any campaign, you can’t remove them. That campaign is now a modded campaign.

I had to erase the whole thing, because I was playing in Honor Mode. If you beat the game in Honor Mode, you get a set of golden dice. But if you add mods to an Honor Campaign, you forfeit the dice, and there’s no undoing it.

So my solo campaign, which I’ve been working one for literally months, is gone. But that’s fine. I’m fine.

I know I sound like a flaming narcissist when I write about this (the jury is out: I am), but it’s been a fascination of mine for awhile. And I tend to write about the same things. I haven’t written about Stockton Rush’s hubris killing a teenager, but that’s so last week.

My latest song just broke over 230 hits. I do try to make good content for the site and its clientele, but I don’t think they (the songs) deserve that much attention. Songs that are more recently prior to my latest track did not pull in numbers that flattering.

As I uploaded less and less songs and as the hits started to decline, I thought that it was only natural. If I barely upload anything anymore, people are going to jump ship. After the decline, anything new I manage to eke out will be met with less than prior enthusiasm.

So I had to wonder again, and I asked my best friend what they thought. Why/how did my latest song slap? Obviously it wasn’t because it was particularly… great. It was fine, but yes… they speculated that it may’ve just been the timing. I uploaded it at a certain point in time where it caught the eye of a lot of randos, and also it may’ve been that not a lot of songs were getting uploaded that day, so it stayed on the front page longer.

Another idea they had was that it may’ve just been that the thumbnail was intriguing. I hadn’t even thought of that! Of course sometimes people click on a song because of the thumbnail. Or at least I can admit that I do that.

On the downside, this song got zero faves. That means a lot of random people listened to it, hated it, and will likely never listen to anything I do in the future. I have to up my game and use powerful AI technology, or I’m going to get left in the dust.

Having recently finished the shows for August, I’ve been trying to catch up on chores around the house. I don’t really want to rehearse this week or this weekend. I guess it’s also going to be hot, so I may just stay close to my window unit.

Work has been good, but I think I should get out there and try making a few sales again. This season is usually the slowest. People are more angling for affording air conditioning than getting dental work done, I imagine.

Have been trying to surrender Jarnathan to the Humane Society, but they’ve been giving me the runaround. The receptionist said that they receive dozens of surrenders per day, and that I’ll need to wait for them to contact me. I also probably came off like I am in no hurry, and that really it isn’t Jarnathan’s fault. He just becomes destructive because there’s no one here during the day. He’s upped his game to ripping up the carpet and peeing on walls, but I don’t think he would do any of that if he could just live with someone that works from home. I change his box every day and he’s always fed and watered, but he needs socializing.

If I get another cat, it is going to be an old female (8+ years). My experience with male cats, in particular young ones, has been discouraging.

How could I end one of these without mentioning politics, without the mental image of Trump on the roof of the White House, declaring Marshal Law. I don’t believe there will be another election, although the recent gerrymandering would suggest otherwise. I still think the reason why he got elected this time was because other leaders were afraid of another Jan. 6th riot, or worse. His followers really are that unhinged, setting politicians on fire and fawning over ChatGPT, deporting dishwashers and then getting strangely upset about Trump not keeping a promise. I don’t know… maybe there’ll be a civil war. Maybe Ukraine will help the left and Israel will help the right.

It’s just a daydream, but ideally I’d like to see the west coast secede peacefully. I’ve always held on to the idea that Americans can maintain decorum among opposing views, but… maybe this is an outdated perspective. Jan. 6th and Roe V Wade getting turned over has made me walk back my opinion.

Now, I imagine other states would want to join Cascadia, despite them not being geographically connected. That should be fine. And of course if some providences in Canada would want to be included, that would also be fine. So long as they forged and adhered to a new secular declaration, much like our original secular document but without any attempts to disgrace or subvert it.

Essentially it’d be like a reset button, where the hard left and the hard right are not tolerated. I suppose the hard left will want some place for themselves, after MAGA claims the flyovers and El Salvador. Maybe they can move to Israel. They’ll feel so proud of themselves. Or they could just move to Paris or London, if they don’t want to live too close to the fighting.

Last Wednesday I played a show on Foster, with a few local bands. The second drummer was kind enough to let us use their kit, so I didn’t have to bring mine (I brought my own cymbals, though, since they are expensive). Next, I have two more shows to play, one this Sunday and one on the Saturday after this one. I’ve been practicing a little more and I’ve been doing light calisthenics at home, mixed with a little lifting with 8-pound weights. Have been trying to eat better too, but I had 4 slices of pepperoni pizza at the venue, washed down with a cider that came in an aluminum can.

But all this drumming does exacerbate my tinnitus. I have to do more “skull thumping” to keep it down, and the window unit provides a lot of blessed white noise. I have felt like hanging it up again, but the idea instills I fear in me, much like how a dumb old man fears moving far away from his home. I suppose that’s what I am; entrenched in the all too blissful, cloying familiar.

If I quit both bands, what little social life I have will become even smaller. Playing music with other people is an intimate, exciting, stimulating experience that is enriching both emotionally and intellectually, but I am approaching the 30 year mark and there’s this well of sadness in me - I have to balance the pros and cons and it’s looking more like I’m just hanging on. I want to be there for these musicians, and I have a cultivated talent, but sometimes I think a race doesn’t last forever. Life has an arch that ends at the bottom.

All this probably sounds depressing, which in turn is kind of funny. I am complaining now, but regardless of all that, my mind and body keeps getting up and moving forward. I don’t think I could give up if I really wanted to. The exercise is giving me more erections, and the mushroom infused kombucha is finally giving me shits that aren’t a struggle.

If there is pleasure to be had, I will take it for myself. And if it’s derived from loving and celebrating others, I’ll take it shamelessly. Maybe I will quit playing drums, and it may be frightening but it won’t be like moving to another state. You would have to be really brave to do that. Or really dumb.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISHT50hQCHY

While it's encouraging to see someone change their mind about what some felt was a complicated issue, there really wasn't anything complicated about Trump's intentions in the first place, nothing that wasn't as plain as the spray tan on his face. You can say oops, I may have made a mistake supporting him, and while that's admirable, I can understand why some people are not being gracious/forgiving in the comments section... but despite all that, I still don't and never will think it's time to be divided and generalizing bigots towards each other. Everyone, regardless of their political leanings, is suffering under this President.

Taco's campaigning team targeted disenfranchised, angry young men, men who were depressed and felt like they lacked direction/meaning, Americans who were vulnerable and in need of help. Then his husband, Musk, tells these same people that they're too stupid to work in tech. But that's always been a politician's maneuver; that classic bait and switch. Most of them have been to that island. These are the traders that came away with millions after Trump scared everyone with his tariffs.

As I sit in this Muslim restaurant, one that I enjoy on occasion, I cannot help but feel somewhat… I think young people describe it as a bout of disassociation. Or just a juxtaposition of feelings, maybe. The husband and wife are friendly, and they have Palestinian programs running on the flatscreen. A man from Thailand calls me. He is an associate of mine, and we speak to each other like old friends.

And I feel so embarrassed to be an American, enjoying their company and business. I think, Taiwan is so fucked if China invades.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJiwovX3mNA

He really is the best right now, imho

Before I get into  scriabin and the tragic news, I understand that in less tragic news, Israel is at war with Iran. But we can all calm down, because Israel is a nuclear power, and Trump is gifting us with two beautiful flagpoles flanking either side of the White House. This is more of my terse, derisive gleanings, but I'm under the impression now that we don't deserve much else. Somewhat related, I think if you install dictators in other countries and create a humanitarian crisis that results in some mass exodus, you now have to house the refugees that are fleeing the country you destroyed.

 scriabin has passed away. I was surprised, despite the fact that he had made it clear that he was bedridden a few months back. To what degree of his illness he suffered from, he did not specify, though. Nor did he disclose exactly what it was. I was still caught off guard because he was young and he had a fertile mind. Up until the end, he was writing fantastic prose and music. It just doesn't seem like something a terminally ill person could manage. And it's objectively sadder when someone younger dies. We've probably been party to some philosophical humming and hawing over whether it's more of a loss if someone younger with potential dies or if someone older with knowledge dies, but anyone that leans towards the geriatric is undoubtedly geriatric and all the more bitter for it. They would wax some maxim like "youth is wasted on the youth" with a straight face. They conveniently forget that no one is employing grandpa's priceless wisdom because grandpa has a full diaper and he believes in ghosts.

I'm just... mildy mad, not just because it feels like a waste, but because this person was also thoughtful and kindhearted. These are priceless characteristics to me. They're the only effective defense against the majority of people in this world that are quick to judge and condemn. I'll have to mention Daryl Davis again, of course, my heterosexual husband. This essence that is now gone is what truly makes a death a bitter one, not whether they're young or old (well, if they're young AND loving towards others, it's a bit worse). I often write about this but it's not with any sentiment. Love is the ultimate act of defiance.

Goodbye  scriabin

I love you.

_______________________________

And I love all of you weird fuckers. I hate it when you fight, but I know sometimes you have to.

Summer is that season I have to endure, always has been. It's a long crawl through 3 months of cheeriness and insect swarms and sun-blasted, burnt yellow grass. This particular 2025 version is going to be extra muggy, with the Trump administration at the helm. Since November's results, it's felt like we've been ramping up to a fever pitch, culminating into Pride month and weaponizing the military. A man who should have been publicly drawn and quartered for treason has threaded the needle and led us into a whole new level of surrealism. At least now I think I've come to expect anything, though. Musk has floated the idea of becoming President, and I can see that. Why couldn't I have seen it earlier, really. He certainly has enough money to make it happen. Then he could contract himself ad nauseam.

I have conceivably three more summers of this to look forward to, and we've barely gotten into this first one. Politics aside, I guess I'd have to admit the one thing that's alright about summer is other people I love seem to enjoy it. They have to endure my unwarranted cheeriness during the winter, so I owe them some reciprocation. I guess it's fun to wear sunshades, and my half Mexican skin develops a tan. There, I said nice things about summer.

I have been thinking about recording a new song, but my bassist is borrowing my bass. His needed to be re-wired. My guitarist said he would do that, but he hasn’t. To make matters worse, he and the bassist like how my bass sounds. A lot. So I am getting the impression that they aren’t going to fix the old one and just use mine. It’s fine, I am just going to borrow it back from under their noses. They won’t know I took it for a spin.

FA is in read-only mode, so it’s not like I am in any kind of hurry. And my production rate has just been way, way down. The truth is I import all my songs from China, and now that it’s more expensive, I am going to have to start making my own.

It's been months, and I don't think I wrote that I got a new cat. It's a major change in my life and my routine. Chancellor Jarnathan (CJ) is an all white male 1-year-old firecracker that is very, very bitey. I think he might be part Siamese. He enjoys: Eating insulation. Eating rubber bands. Waiting to use his box while I'm cleaning it. Destroying entire rolls of toilet paper. Machine gun farting on my lap while he's unconscious. Biting. Attacking. Running into a long jump over the couch. Eating his toys and feathers. Jumping in the shower while I'm in the god damn shower. Catnip. Catnip treats. Eating too fast and throwing up. Being very gentle and sweet when I come home, then he bites. Climbing up on top of the kitchen cabinets and then meowing in distress. Vehemently accusing me of negligence when I don't let him sleep with me. Sleeping on top of me. Jumping on the keyboard while I'm trying to send an email. Dilating his eyes and poofing his tail up and then doing a jump-bite.

I am pretty sure he's going to eat me when I die, no hesitation. I'm like a steak he likes to cuddle with just before it's dinner time.

He is preceded by Hephzebah. Hephzebah passed away just this last winter. She was arguably the sweetest cat I ever had. I guess I didn't write about it because I was pretty broken up at the time. I got her right around the time when I moved, so she had been here as long as I have. She was completely terrified of me when I first let her out of that disposable cardboard kennel. She basically lived behind the couch, and that was fine. On one side of the couch, I placed her food bowl and water bowl right at the end, so she wouldn't have to leave her safe space. The couch was downstairs, too, so that entire room became her's. It took her a really long time to warm up to me, but when she did... she was so sweet. She never, ever bit or scratched me. You could pet her chest and tummy while she was on her back and you were completely safe (if you so much as look at CJ's tummy, he will take your eyes). She was still pretty skittish in general, at least for about a year, like you couldn't just run up on her. I keep a clay impression of her paw on my dresser, and she would definitely be a toilet ghost. Jarnathan is very sweet (when he wants to be) and I'm getting attached to him, but I think I'll always miss my Dumbest of Babies Boo-boo Bear.

https://youtu.be/D00M2KZH1J0?si=rupFJNB3Wnfx-ayv

I was thinking of booking some shows today and I found the prospect a bit depressing because I am so out of touch. Before the Corone Virus killed mostly infirm/unhealthy people, I was fooling around in a few bands and playing shows, was following the same routine I had been for 23, 24 years. I wasn’t booking all those shows, not nearly, but I ran with people that booked shows. It was a skill some of my peers possessed that I would appreciate. But now, I think my appreciation for what they did could have been more pronounced. I took it for granted. Maybe in the end we all feel like we took all of this for granted.

So now I was thinking of calling my friend who relentlessly played shows during the pandemic and seeing if I could get a list of potential venues. If anyone stayed plugged in while everyone else was being a faggot, it’s him.

When I drink during the day, I feel like a bloated Johnny Depp, wandering aimlessly around an island town. People know my name and I know their names. They are sweet to me, and I tip the maximum amount.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23s9g64yoxg

I've largely been accepting of the advent of AI and its applications in public and private sectors. Advocates claimed it would improve some software used in the medical field, making it easier for us to detect diseases that were previously harder to spot. Algorithms are more intuitive within public media, making it more efficient when it comes to anticipating what I need in my everyday life. I imagine it's useful in the military and surveillance. In my mind it's an inert tool that has no agenda, like a gun or a Bible.

But, like with other aforementioned tools, it's in the hands of some bad actors, and it's clear that many people are unhappy about this. It isn't just crotchety older folks, too. Young artists and musicians have voiced several criticisms, like the one above. As AI becomes more applicable and seamless, it's starting to replace humans, both in places of business and the arts. I have this friend who is in his late 20's, someone I occasionally play BG3 on PS5 with. We were talking about music and he told me he was a huge fan of an artist named Hatsune Miku. https://www.youtube.com/@HatsuneMiku

I asked him who that was and they said that she is an avatar that was developed by Crypton Future Media. She releases songs and music videos and performs live, just like any other artist, but all of it is AI generated. A performer wears a suit with trackers and their movements are projected onto a large screen, when "she" is performing live. I was frankly shocked, but later I felt like it was probably a bit naive of me to be surprised. I had already heard that AI has charted in music. I just wasn't imagining that it could serve as an entire person/celebrity, with its own album releases and live shows.

It all seems a bit depressing, at least when I think about up and coming artists and musicians, people that are just starting out and are looking to make their passions their career path. Fans of Hatsune Miku, like my friend, are well aware that she's a robot, and they take real human joy in her works all the same. Perhaps all of this really is a cultural sea change, where machines and people are starting to connect in a fundamental way. I'm sure I don't need to mention sex bots or apps that people talk to when they need a therapist.

Now, it seems a bit damning, at least with how some people are using it. It's possible that, unlike with guns and Bibles, this could change the way humans mentally develop. The Bible or some doctrine that a congregation obsesses over is the only other thing I imagine that truly penetrated the human psych. But where we had to manifest the voice of God, machines actually talk back. Where we projected our will to create, AI can mitigate the effort. Reverence can now be given to a synthetic idol, or something to that effect. It all sounds like histrionics, sure, but maybe myself and other people my age aren't as afraid of the implications because we didn't grow up with all of these new tools. Nevertheless, it's in some places replacing people and in others, it's starting to ruin their lives.

I think another reason I was so quick to accept all of this is I didn't want to sound like a grumpy old man that's out of touch. I was self-conscious of how I would look, but... if I'm being completely honest, I don't really go in for AI generated music. I like some of the art, also I imagine I've unknowingly read a lot of things that were AI generated and I found them agreeable, but the music... and while I'm leaning into shouting at clouds, there's always been other genres that I'm just flatly not a fan of, like most electronic music (unless it's uber goth/vintage). That's just what AI music is to me; a genre of music. I think of music in these very binary terms. It's either good or it's jazz. It's good or it's prog. It's good or it's AI. I'm all for improving medical technology, but I think I'm never going to like beep boop music.

A lot of stories keep coming out about ICE accidentally deporting people that are not criminals. They get sent to El Salvador prisons, even if a judge orders them to be sent back. This is more collateral damage that’s presented as a necessary evil, not dissimilar to what’s happened in Gaza. So far, ICE hasn’t deported any native born citizens, at least not publicly. They really are a sort of modern fascist regime, minus the trains that run to gas chambers. I guess these black hole sites that some immigrants are getting dropped into are like gas chambers, or it’s our version.

What’s particularly spooky to me is some old white people in this country are fine with it. They aren’t afraid of ICE, or unmarked vans or ignoring due process. What’s funny is there’s some brown people that are ok with it too, probably because they’re native born. They really want to live like this, in a country where fascism is normalized. Where a demented obese creep can incite a coup and still get re-elected.

Haven’t heard about any mass shootings lately. They probably found jobs working for ICE. They aren’t as marginalized now, it seems. It’s not “problematic” to be unvaccinated and a bigot.

I have to be honest and say that it’s become harder than ever to hold onto my nonpartisan values. But really I’m thinking I’ve tried to retain them because I don’t have anywhere to land but right in the middle of the fence.

The left wants to mandate vaccines and chip away at gun rights and the right stripped women of their rights and can’t handle a black mermaid. And both of them see things in a reductive, generalizing way, speak ignorantly and lazily and I have been helplessly assimilated. Immigrants are “bad”, cops are “bad”, sex is a “sin”, you’re an “ally” or you’re not.

I have conservative friends, but… I feel like I’m pushing a boulder up a hill, with my opinion of their characters/beliefs getting smothered in waves of awful shit that is happening that they’re either accepting or even happy about. It’s the same internal gut churning struggle I was having with the left during the pandemic, with their draconian mandates with language and identities.

Damn, but why do I care still… is it really just because my body is producing more estrogen or this is just how it is when you’re old and more sensitive… other people suffer, and it goes around and around in my head until I have to write something like this, but that doesn’t make the realization go away. At this point I feel like I might actually vote for the first time, for one of two candidates that nurse from the same tit. I think I’d settle for literally anyone aside from Trump, though. I don’t even care. Bring Putin in. Elect a lawn chair. Anyone that doesn’t look like a melted Halloween candle with a troupe and a protracted anus for a mouth.

I have decided that I am now a full blown communist. Mao and Stalin did not have anyone murdered, and if they did, it was for the greater good. Their legacies have been unfairly portrayed in a negative light, by bad actors processing of a nefarious agenda. People claim that Putin “steals” from his citizens, but riddle me this: How do you steal from peasants that have no rubles? Putin has all the currency because he needs to make sure there’s an even distribution of wealth, of course. This is Communism 101. The people own the means of production, not the greedy elites.

Also, I now believe in ghosts and aliens. It’s never been proven that they don’t exist, and the burden of proof is on the skeptics. There’s been a number of times where I’ve been rendered semiconscious, and where was I really transported too? Narnia.

And I was wrong about human rights and agency. People love it when other people strip them of their freedoms and tell them how to live and think. Their complaining about it now, but wait until it’s more like 1984 around here and less like Brave New World. Everyone will agree with each other, and if not, they won’t be able to escape to Canada, because that’ll be our new 51st state!

It's  Thrashwolf 's birthday! As of midnight last night, today is 24 hours of Thrash's darn birthday. They're my best friend, and we're getting rib-eye tacos and then we're going to the Waffle Window. I love this goofer-boofer and they're one of the smartest, funniest people I know. They're very sweet too, and they smell great and they're hot. They even taste amazing! If you ask me or you don't, I'd say they're pretty much perfect. AND they're the parent of the one and only dog that I adore, which is Rigby. Normally I'm not too into canines, have largely been a cat person, but Rigby's god damn face is so expressive and he's incredibly affectionate when he's not trying to be tough and independent. He's massively spoiled but that's fine. He'll probably be assuming we're celebrating his birthday instead of Thrash's.

Thrash and I were born and grew up in different states. We're just a few years apart in age and we could have gone to school together. I still think it's a shame we didn't. They would have been stuffing me in lockers and I would have been relieved because then I wouldn't have to hide my boner. Unfortunately, I missed all that potential, but when we were in our 20's, Thrash moved to Portland OR! They were living the fast party life and I was living in a basement, likely still a virgin. Then, when I finally got into my 30's and I was starting to put a few years between myself and my awkward teens and 20's, I met Thrash at a Mexican restaurant. Yes, it was a god damn "furmeet" a friend of mine had invited me too. Thrash didn't know who I was, but I knew who they were, because I had been stalking them on the internet. It was kind of like a slasher movie, but instead of intending to kill them, I wanted to find out what brands of soap and deodorant they were using. With my nose. Ideally while standing very close to them. But when I sat down and they were right there, sitting across from me, I realized I couldn't come off as an obsessed psychopath. So I spoke to them briefly and then mostly talked to other furs. They weren't that talkative and I was, so it was easy for me to seem aloof. I maintained this mild indifference for years, all while thinking I would give anything to get one snoof in. Eventually I forced myself to stop fantasizing about kidnapping them and taking them to a seedy motel, and I started sleeping around again like a jilted, frustrated harlot.

Then, all of the sudden, an incredibly dangerous virus spread across the entire planet in 2020! Every Democrat locked themselves in their homes and demanded that Republicans get vaccinated, which led to Trump getting elected, but before that, Thrash and I reconnected through playing video games. I actually had no idea they were such a huge gamer! That's because previously I had been internally objectifying them (I still do a little bit, but am getting better). When I realized that and I actually started spending time with them regularly, they became my friend. We argued, we shared our stories, we watched movies and went for walks with Rigby and they took me to ride rad BMX bikes. I invited them over here and I played drums for him. We even went to the coast a few times. They met my family, too, and I learned a few things about theirs. After all that, I thought, "If only they would stop buying things from Amazon." Ha no, what I really thought was, "So, they're my friend but I don't need them to be a musician that I'm in a band with, as a tie that binds. I feel like I don't even need the video games, or the other things we have in common. I just like spending time with them, even if it's while doing nothing. They must be my best friend."