There's a guy at my work that seems to have nothing better to do than play some 'Vegas Slots' game on his computer all day (literally). Sometimes, when I walk by his desk, he's staring at the screen, as the numbers go scrolling by, mesmerized, and (I swear) actually drooling, as he seems more concerned with the imaginary winnings of this freak random computer-generated tally than the fact that he isn't a human any more. It's fucking crazy, William.
Being sane in an insane world is really difficult. Sometimes, you are called a 'terrorist', I suppose, because you see what is happening in REAL life, and when you try to point it out, the freaks and zombies get 'uncomfortable' and lash out like three-year-olds.
I just have to shake my head and turn and walk away, at times, leaving them to their delusions of granduer. Worthless people doing worthless things and printing worthless money that worthless useless helpless drones and slaves place great importance upon isn't MY idea of 'living'.
Here's some advice from a smart ass, no disrespect intended.
Dramatically lower your expectations to contact with the floor. Read the anthropology texts and articles for about a month and you will see that we homo sapiens (that Homo scares me a little) aren't more than a 5$ bet to the house from some of the most disgusting animals on earth.
What animal do you know of that lies? Cheats?
And read Cognitive Dissonance's essays on this blog.
I'm wondering if there is a nearby dimension which converts these images in to real living creatures. This crazed monkey, teeth clacking, eyeballs spinning, manically bounding around threateningly with smiling Ben Shalom Yellen as his own personal Joan Embry, moments later her head is bitten off and she flops around like a dead chicken.
You mean all these trillions printed AND THEY HAVEN'T ACTUALLY HIT THE EMERGENCY "PRINT" BUTTON YET? That's one well-trained monkey, although he's left his shit everywhere. Guess he had to leave sumpin for Yellen to do...
It was a slow day And the sun was beating On the soldiers by the side of the road There was a bright light A shattering of shop windows The bomb in the baby carriage Was wired to the radio These are the days of miracle and wonder This is the long distance call The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby, don't cry Don't cry
It was a dry wind And it swept across the desert And it curled into the circle of birth And the dead sand Falling on the children The mothers and the fathers And the automatic earth These are the days of miracle and wonder This is the long distance call The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby, don't cry Don't cry
It's a turn-around jump shot It's everybody jump start It's every generation throws a hero up the pop charts Medicine is magical and magical is art The boy in the bubble And the baby with the baboon heart
And I believe These are the days of lasers in the jungle Lasers in the jungle somewhere Staccato signals of constant information A loose affiliation of millionaires And billionaires and baby These are the days of miracle and wonder This is the long distance call The way the camera follows us in slo-mo The way we look to us all The way we look to a distant constellation That's dying in a corner of the sky These are the days of miracle and wonder And don't cry baby, don't cry Don't cry
Is it JIM CRAMER? Is it BEN BERNANKE?
(Yellen ain't tellen'!)
There's a guy at my work that seems to have nothing better to do than play some 'Vegas Slots' game on his computer all day (literally). Sometimes, when I walk by his desk, he's staring at the screen, as the numbers go scrolling by, mesmerized, and (I swear) actually drooling, as he seems more concerned with the imaginary winnings of this freak random computer-generated tally than the fact that he isn't a human any more. It's fucking crazy, William.
Being sane in an insane world is really difficult. Sometimes, you are called a 'terrorist', I suppose, because you see what is happening in REAL life, and when you try to point it out, the freaks and zombies get 'uncomfortable' and lash out like three-year-olds.
I just have to shake my head and turn and walk away, at times, leaving them to their delusions of granduer. Worthless people doing worthless things and printing worthless money that worthless useless helpless drones and slaves place great importance upon isn't MY idea of 'living'.
This reminds me of a song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jseTa7HUIDU
You're a deep thinker, Mr. Banzai. I appreciate your brand of humor.
Here's some advice from a smart ass, no disrespect intended.
Dramatically lower your expectations to contact with the floor. Read the anthropology texts and articles for about a month and you will see that we homo sapiens (that Homo scares me a little) aren't more than a 5$ bet to the house from some of the most disgusting animals on earth.
What animal do you know of that lies? Cheats?
And read Cognitive Dissonance's essays on this blog.
I'm wondering if there is a nearby dimension which converts these images in to real living creatures. This crazed monkey, teeth clacking, eyeballs spinning, manically bounding around threateningly with smiling Ben Shalom Yellen as his own personal Joan Embry, moments later her head is bitten off and she flops around like a dead chicken.
You mean all these trillions printed AND THEY HAVEN'T ACTUALLY HIT THE EMERGENCY "PRINT" BUTTON YET? That's one well-trained monkey, although he's left his shit everywhere. Guess he had to leave sumpin for Yellen to do...
That's not how I recall those buttons being used, i.e., one click. My recollection is 5000 clicks a second.
Paul Simon - Boy in the Bubble -
It was a slow day
And the sun was beating
On the soldiers by the side of the road
There was a bright light
A shattering of shop windows
The bomb in the baby carriage
Was wired to the radio
These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That's dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don't cry baby, don't cry
Don't cry
It was a dry wind
And it swept across the desert
And it curled into the circle of birth
And the dead sand
Falling on the children
The mothers and the fathers
And the automatic earth
These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That's dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don't cry baby, don't cry
Don't cry
It's a turn-around jump shot
It's everybody jump start
It's every generation throws a hero up the pop charts
Medicine is magical and magical is art
The boy in the bubble
And the baby with the baboon heart
And I believe
These are the days of lasers in the jungle
Lasers in the jungle somewhere
Staccato signals of constant information
A loose affiliation of millionaires
And billionaires and baby
These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That's dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don't cry baby, don't cry
Don't cry