I would say all of my blogs I just have some thoughts on my mind and get them down on paper. Formulate them if I can. PuertoRican suggested I add pictures to my blog. So, I am going to do a blog of pictures. I don't take a lot of pictures but here are some.
This is Syd the Kid (Sydney) on my bed. I write a lot about The Kid and my bed. I love my bed and spend too much time in it. Syd the Kid does to. He is my friend and companion. A great part of my day is taking long walks on the beach with him and throwing toys into the water for him to retrieve.
Next are the cats. Seb the Reb (Sebastion) is the black and white one and Pee Kee (Pico) is the grey and white one. These are the tricksters in the house. Seb is like a weird, ornery guy but he loves to sit in my lap. Pee Kee is just a wildman always searching for food and critters. Seb was the first one to catch a lizard though.
I really like this door. The architecture and charm in downtown Charleston is unrivaled except for maybe Paris and New Orleans. I am sure there are other small cities in Italy and many other places that I do not know about. The point is the old houses, the ironwork, the gardens, no skyscrapers or any building larger than a church it all adds up to a very charming and magical city. I don't go in to the city much because I am afraid of not being able to find parking and I am broke so I can't really afford any of the nice restaurants or nice things. The cream, the red, the black lion knocker and the lantern I just love this photo.
So, I can not afford to be downtown. I have not checked how close I could get if I had a decent job. It may be far North where it can start to get dangerous. I am all for not yet gentrified areas but I don't really want to hear gunshots either. I live with my parents now in a suburb about 25 min. from downtown Charleston. It is in one of those nice developments. My dad was an executive in the steel industry. It allows them to support me and allows me to be lazier than I probably should be. I mean I am writing a blog write now instead of looking for jobs. My conscience feels pretty bad about that and it definitely hurts my self esteem. So, I will wrap this up. My parents live about 15 min. away from the beach. It is a lovely place to take a walk, people watch, take in the sounds. I love the water. I love the beach community. I can give the dog a walk on the beach and stop off at any number of great restaurants in my swim trunks with the dog. Here is a pic from Edisto Island. It is about 45 min. south of Charleston.
So, this is a takeaway. I don't apply to as many jobs as I should but where are all the decent jobs? I guess I have been in contact with Wake Forest University about going to get my Masters in counseling. I don't know if I want to do mental health or substance abuse and addiction. I still have to take my GRE and get letters of recommendation and all of that. That should not be too big of a deal. In the meantime I am just existing in Mount Pleasant (suburb of Charleston). I have my dog, I have my cats, I have the wondrous city which I never attend, and I have the beach which I go just about daily.
There is this character (Kirrilov) in this book I am reading (Demons) whose solution to the fear of death is to kill himself. Not only that he is open to taking the blame for crimes by writing a letter before he does it. That is just awesome. I love this book. Myself, I am just pretty ok with the fear of death. Most days it is repressed to a manageable level or not really a thought at all although it is always there simmering beneath the surface. It is what it is. It is fun for me to read about and talk about. After reading a book like "Denial of Death" it is hard to associate with people that are so strongly repressed, anchored, distracted. Don't tell me god is the solution. Please. We are not immortal. The name Picasso may be immortal but his consciousness is not. Even the paintings are quite fragile. Better than nothing. A whimper into nothingness. That could be what I have to show for all of this. No stoic death for me. A faint cry. A feeble plea. Grasping for something, anything. So, I better turn it around. I better be a hero! Without morality there is pain. Do I need Christ for morality? No. Why not get a job, get a god boss, get a god CEO, a god girlfriend and transcend? Because it is all a facade. But it works for some? No, no, no. I have to stand alone to some degree. It may be difficult but I have to do it. I just wish there were somewhere around here I could get painting lessons! (transcendence, immortality through works of art is what I crave. Even if I fall short it will be a worthwhile experience).
I slept in my own bed last night. If was phenomenal. I didn't shake the habit of sleeping too much though. I rollover and look outside at the light. I rollover and look out my door. I have no reason to get up besides picking up the dog from the veterinarian hotel. I don't think it's called that but wherever you take dogs to stay while on vacation. It is like sleeping in is ingrained in my brain at home while on vacation I was up at 8am everyday. Oh well, probably a bigger issue is that I don't like not having choice in shitting and I am afraid of death. There is an African tribe that adorns butt plugs to show the tribe that they don't shit. Really, we excrete a vile waste out of our control, our bodies are pathetic meat vessels, and most of us die a determinist death. Dostoevsky says in killing oneself we become a god. The hero accepts mortality. This is what we are told. People crave immortality. It is part of their repression of death. Everyone better be perfect or it challenges the immortality symbol. It sobers the whole crew but repression and delusion and distortion is stronger. All of my psychotic breaks boil down to an unrepressed fear of death, a fear of hell, a fear of nothingness, of no longer existing with a consciousness. Imagine every second of every day engulfed in chaos and fears of how it is all going to end. Anxiety run amok. Do I need hero narratives or can I accept the facts of life? Just as someone can overcome a fear of elevators it is probably possible to overcome the fear of death. Most of these ideas came from "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker. Really great book so far I have to continue reading it.
I am a worm. I am a worm who eats worms. I am a god worm. I bleed, I vomit, I shit. The most highly trained Navy Seal is still just a pathetic meat vessel at the end of the day. The bullets will still kill amongst a host of other things. At least the Navy Seal can kill his neurosis by killing the enemy and being a “hero.”
So, this blog post is going to be disjointed. The “Denial of Death” stuff just sort of came out. I took a trip to NYC and Valley Forge over a long weekend. I might just write about some points. Sitting in a car all day to get there was ok. I listened to some JRE and other podcasts. Michael Malice was good. Thanks whaam!. Conversation with fellow travelers seems to be the best way to pass the time. I found a gameboy unpacking but not Tetris. I used to love playing Tetris. If I had a Nintendo DS it would have been Chrono Trigger time.
On NYC:
We took a train in and got there relatively early. I love walking the streets. So many beautiful women. So many different flavors. That diversity is hard to come by. I think the percentage of attractive women is hard to come by as well. I haven’t been to Sweden or Brazil though. I love the Modern Museum of Art. I was getting lost in Cezzanne and Monet paint strokes. I got yelled at for getting too close to Starry Night. They have everything there. Beauty abounds in NYC.
On the yuppie costume, the yuppie life:
So, back when I was an Account Manager making like $60k/yr I had dreams of living in $3k+/month apartments, having wardrobes of designer clothes, and consistently going out for fine dining. So what I would do is buy expensive pieces of stuff so I have like 2 full yuppie costumes. It’s like I carry them around for special occasions. Today, I pretty much wear bermuda shorts and t-shirts every day and much prefer this uniform. So, I have gained some weight. I am looking like a bloated stockbroker in these clothes but they still fit. The damndest thing, I am at this fancy NYC restaurant and it feels right to be wearing this costume. It feels good. I am not really wearing a mask. The truth is my parents are covering the dinner but it is not necessarily hurting my self esteem. Living with them does, not having an occupation does, but for whatever reason that night I am feeling good. I am just a guy who has some nice clothes getting free rolled at a nice restaurant in NYC. I don’t have dreams of moving to Soho or Tribeca or Brooklyn anymore. I’ll put on the costume if the situation calls for it. I can’t fight every cultural battle but I would much rather take the dog for a walk on the beach and stop in to the local spot for a burger.
On weddings:
The best wedding I ever went to was not even a wedding. My sister had a marriage celebration and she was not even married yet. My mom tried her best to make it a reception with all the associated celebrations and my sister was like fuck off. It was just a dinner and then a bar crawl. My sister and her partner finally got married in a ghetto ass chapel that only included exchanging vows and 0 people. The only reason my sister even got married was to get on her partner’s health insurance. That is my kind of wedding.
After NYC I went to Valley Forge for my cousin’s wedding. It was like every other wedding ever except it was outside and I was in a wool suit in 90 degree weather. I wanted to wear what Indians wear to weddings but I couldn’t find anything in time. I am doing this in the future. This is one area where I will fight a cultural battle. If someone has their wedding outside I am wearing fucking Indian wedding attire.
It was good to see some family and it is great that my cousin is in love and has found somebody. I did not know many people at the wedding and had already talked a lot with my cousins the prior day. I don’t drink and did not feel like dancing so the “Party” section of the wedding was really boring. I went away from the loud music (and the wedding) and talked to friends on the phone. Maybe that makes me a bad guest but fuck it. Would I have a wedding if it guaranteed that I would make $100,000 in gifts? Would I have a wedding if it would please my family’s vanity? My ideal marriage is getting married to a stripper and doing heroine in the bathroom. No, that is just my knee jerk reaction to certain aspects of culture. I may have problems. I do have problems. Oh well, looking at this Monet above my computer calms me down and makes me happy so I will do more of that.
On cab drivers with life advice:
I had a cab driver yesterday that basically told me to find Christ, watch college football, get married, and have children. He told of his brother who he labeled as lonely that died alone to a diabetic incident. Then he rationalized and justified why having grandchildren was so great. The thing is he was 70 and had seen a lot. Where is the truth in this? Grandchildren probably are great. All the fun and non of the hassle. One has to have children in order to have grandchildren though. I don’t like the proposition of having children. I have no idea what I am going to be doing when I am 40-60 but sometimes the outlook looks grim. 60-80 seems even worse. That does not mean I should be going around having children as some sort of solution to this.
There is nothing like living vicariously through 18-22 year old college football players “going to battle.” The hero narratives are strong in sports. Reality tv. Gladiator games for the masses. A different kind of opium. No thanks.
Marriage is an interesting one. I would prefer to just have a loving partner. I would probably be the one getting married to get on her health insurance. The data shows partners get a little bit happier after getting married and then it tails off. The data shows bad marriages are incredibly miserable affairs but divorce obviously leads to some happiness. It does not seem like a good proposition.
Stories from the Emergency Room 1by doctorstu, June 05
I keep meaning to keep a journal of some of the stranger things that have happened in the emergency room this year and I figured I'd use this blog.
Case #1 - Almost dead woman with priorities
Pretty quiet morning in the high-acuity area when we get a call over the box. Pick up the radio and call all clear to proceed, EM says they have a ~50 year old woman, heroin overdose with GCS 3 who they've pumped with Naloxone but she's still struggling to not crash on them. Okay cool, see you in 5 minutes. Turn around a few times on my chair because I'm not on the resus team and wait to see what happens. She comes in virtually comatose with 2 lines already in and gets pumped with more naloxone. At this point I have a patient with DKA who needs attending so I go off for about 45 minutes.
I'm coming back from my DKA girl (who has subsequently gone to the bathroom, ripped her line out and absconded from the hospital because fuck me, right?) and I hear this ungodly screech:
"WHEEEEEEEEEEEERE'S MEEEE FUUUUUCKIN BAAAAAG!!!" and what looks like a hunched pile of rags shuffling through high-acuity.
No fucking way.
It's our heroin OD, she's up and she's PISSED she's been saved from her OD without her bag. Then here comes the kicker
"WHEN I WAKED UP IN OTHER HOSPITALS I HAD ME FUCKIN BAG!!"
10/10 priorities lady.
### Ask stu
Heroin OD a few days ago in resus.
Patient "I only took one hit"
Dr #1 "How much is a hit?"
Dr #2 "Ask someone"
Dr #1 "Who?"
Dr #2 "Ask stu"
Dr #1 "oh, yeah"
Me: ????
Go on some dates. If you like each other then fuck. Go on some more dates. If you still like each other get into a relationship.
This simplicity alluded me for many years. I don't know what I was thinking in high school. It is like that is where I should have learned this. In college I was probably a weird misogynist. I mean. Not really but I just thought women should have big asses and I don't even know. I did not date in college. I would rather play Diablo II or Warcraft III. I remember there was this girl from high school who told me she liked me in high school and basically made it possible to go hook up. I messed that up. That was my dating in college. I would run into girls I knew and have positive interactions but then just never follow up or go on dates. Then poker hit. I got all into the pick up artist bullshit at the time. I was all about "one night lays with dimes." I guess that was an adventure. I finally fucked a beautiful woman from a club. I remember feeling empty, anxiety that she is still in my bed. The scent of her hair on the pillow and watching her put on her black panties still stick with me to this day as blissful but it was kind of like existential crisis that anonymous same night lays aren't the holy grail of life. Why did I not want to date? Why always anonymous? To this day I get weary if the girl is too close. Never shit where you eat. I EAT EVERYWHERE!
I remember I finally asked this one girl out on a date I was real into. Man, she was sexy. Her reply, "No, I have to work tomorrow." Which it was in the morning on a business day. I just kind of nodded my head and walked out. No further questioning just nodded my head and walked out. I am weird.
Greatest poker payoff of my lifeby doctorstu, May 28
I decided to quit playing poker when I got into med school and, being surrounded by private school kids, never really brought it up or talked about it to anyone.
Fast forward about 6 years and I'm sitting at junior doc having dinner with other juniors and a few senior EM consultants when one of them asks me what I did before med. For some reason (and a few drinks) I was honest and told them I spent 2 years making a (very sketchy) living off poker. Cue an hour of questions.
Since then I've been cornered by two senior consultants who've asked me about my days playing poker because apparently 'card players would make the best EM docs'. Yesterday I had an informal talk with the director who more or less confirmed if I was to apply for a full time job in the ED next year I'd be a shoe-in.
Fucking poker man, opening doors everywhere.
P.s. LP nostalgia is huge, games look tight now tho, not such easy money these days =(
It is one of those moments in which I am called to write. So I do. I am officially moved in to my new location in Charleston, SC to a house full of boxes as of Tuesday. These boxes have been a travel through time. I find myself listening to a playlist from 2014 as I went more and more psychotic and alcoholic. Man, that was a rough time. I am giving away gaudy sweatshirts I was thrilled with and buying in succession in a time of hyper mania. Sometimes I am reminded that I have a serious mental illness. So, I do not have a doctor or a therapist and I have not really been going to many meetings down here. I think my only way out of suffering is to take on more responsibility. That is calling up on Medicaid, that is opening up a bank account so that my parents can pay my bills so that I can one day pay my bills. I am back in that zone. I think those 2 things get accomplished and a driver's license it is really time to just get back on the job hunt and actually all of this should be happening at the same time. It's like I am waiting to get all my AA meeting and fellowship all in line and it is just not going to happen on any short of a timeline. I much prefer walks on the beach and really it seems like anything at this point to AA meetings. That is not entirely true but it sucks not having any friends near by. Like I said in another thread though, I get to cleaning up these boxes and putting things in order and the suffering goes a way. I am overcoming the burdens of being! I get an occupation and the fragility of life seems a little less severe. I help someone at an AA meeting and the pangs of pain I may have felt an hour prior have dissipated. Maybe I am just happy on a limited amount of responsibility. To get my own place and to be in a romantic relationship takes new levels of responsibility. I think most would say it is fruitful. That is certainly one of my aims in life. It keeps coming back to me that my main aim in life is to help the suffering. The first occupations that pop out for that are therapist, monk, priest. It is like I want to go right to it. Fuck being a chef. Why do I want to help the middle class with there foodie bullshit gluttony? Why would I want to help multinational corporations with their share price? Ugh. I write this blog like every 3 months. My conscience is screaming at me to search for some jobs. Indeed.com here I come. Mother fucker I would rather write about burning the world to the ground or jumping off bridges!
If you guys got any bitcoin or other cryptocurrency questions shoot them out. I'm following the scene quiet closely so would have answers to most I reckon.
help tracking down a friendby HungarianGOD, May 25
Hey guys, I am trying to get a hold of a friend. Somewhat concerned something happened to him, probably it is nothing and I'm just being paranoid. His handle on pokerstars is Fakeorreal, he usually plays PLO on Pokerstars a few times a week at night (by Eastern Standard Time), usually on $2/$5 tables but could be anywhere in the range of $1/2- $10/$20. I was just curious if anybody has seen him playing online since May 19th. If you see him, please just shoot me a quick PM. I appreciate your help in advance.
~Nathan
I've never understood the global wave of sorrow spread through our society when a celebrity dies. I've always found it fake and wondered why would people abuse such events, are they really that ignorant and self-absorbed, don't they realize that outburst would hurt the closest to that very person? I get the whole attention whoring to show appreciation, but that always has the backfire effect for the ones that its aimed towards.
Last year Chris Cornell was playing in my city. I was contemplating if I should get last minute tickets as he was one of the few rock vocals who still do live shows and are alive and i truly enjoy listening to. I didn't, thinking he would be back the next year or the year after. Once artists come to my city, they always come back, there is something about the atmosphere of this city, something still quite incomprehensible to me. Another missed opportunity, sadly.
Grunge has always been some kind of a safety net to me. Somehow I find it easy to connect with and let my mind at ease while listening. When I heard that he died I truly felt sad and then immediately switched to disappointed when the news that he suicided hit the net. I must have read hundreds of posts of people expressing anger because he killed himself as if they have the right to choose for him what to do with his life. Artists, however, hold a great responsibility and especially artists whose work has actual value and whose work helps people get through tough times. I'm absolutely certain Chris Cornell's creations have given thousands of people something to hold on to when they've had nothing. So what should they be left thinking now? If he didn't cope with reality how are they supposed to? Hence the feeling of disappointment.
That feeling makes me as self-righteous as the people expressing anger, I'm aware of it. I believe a person should live up to his moral obligations regardless of his own emotions. If standing up to your own suffering would prevent the suffering of thousands, in some cases leading to the ceasing of existence, then it certainly should be worth it, after all our whole world is built on hope and withstanding through adversity.
I guess the lesson here is to experience new opportunities when available instead of forever missing them so that you won't be left with the bad taste of regret. And I guess the second would be to put others first... but I don't believe that to be true in all cases ... so fuck it.
I leave you with this masterpiece
P.S. This is the next case which shows how deeply misjudged depression in our ill society is.
I started this SC2 map about half a year ago, and am getting ready to start working on it again. I'm quite proud of it, as I have only had one programming course and have learned almost everything from tutorials and practice.
This is a very different map and it would be really great to complete it. I am hoping that before the end of the year I will have published on b.net.
The year is Stardate 9157, and the entire universe has been discovered geometrically. As the explosion generated by Nashian equilibrium reverberates through the geometric universe, a new robot is created
The Luck Robot whose powerrs of introreverted Nashian equilibrium are self-sustaining. The Luck Robot is capable of transforming any material object into Good Fortune.
Being and nothingness. Existence is absurd. What is the antidote? Art. Beauty. Transcendence.
But creating art is similar to helping the suffering. Beauty is grace. Transendence feels like bliss, liberation, nirvana. What is the big deal if I get it through playing the guitar or fucking a delightful lady meat vessel (with a delightful mind duh) or meditating for some time? Nirvana is a bit too strong of a word. It has too many karma and rebirth connotations. Transcendence, bliss, liberation. Forgetting one's self. The absence of suffering. That is what it is all about. There will be dissatisfaction. Existence is absurd remember? Absurdities abound at every corner. They say to be grateful for the absurdity that is existence. To be thankful for consciousness. I am grateful for ice cream when I am eating it maybe. Maybe I don't want to be grateful for existence. What if I rather be dissatisfied? I can go outside and paint a garden and forget all about that kind of bullshit. I can feed a homeless man. I can share my experiences with a drunk. I can watch a waterfall. Flirt with a beautiful woman. We are poisoned with the absurd and with suffering. Antidotes are needed. Some never get them. If you pray please pray for them.
Whats going on in bitcoin right now fuucken interesting and I am not talking about the price 4x in the last year ($460 to $1700) which in itself massive considering the shitfight thats going on.
It's pretty much testing anarchy at work. Bitcoin is testing a large expensive ($30Billion) system that has no central authority, no one group of people that can make everyone follow their rules.
It has bunch of groups trying to sway the debate one way or another. The debate is mainly about scaling. The problem is that bitcoin can only have about 3.5 transaction per second. Thats just complete shit. If bitcoin wants to survive it definitely needs to raise that by orders of magnitude to be able to compete with traditional evil, war thirsty, life destroying banking system that we have now.
So there are bunch of groups that are trying to sway the decision. And when so much money is at stake these groups are trying to make bitcoin go the way they want so they can increase the benefits for their own group.
The groups are:
1. Developers team
2. Miners
3. Exchanges
4. Businesses currently using bitcoin
5. Status Quo banks etc
6. General Public, Bitcoin enthusiasts
And these bunch of groups know what a goldmine bitcoin can be and they want this goldmine to work for them.
So anyway what i wanted to say is that Bitcoin is testing how Anarchy works and its damn interesting where its going to go from now.
And it has shown me why Anarchy can never work. There are just too many indecisive, easily swayed, lazy, not caring people that can be manipulated into agreeing into something that is not the best solution. And the best solution is very hard to come up with and most likely does not even exist. So in anarchy the minority are jsut screaming at each other unable to make decisions of authority. Whilst the sheep are baaa'ing one way or another based on propaganda or their beliefs.
My prediction is that it will soon split. It has to split. because right now its losing ground to many other bitcoin forks, copies which are trying to also solve the scaling debate plus introducing crazy new tweaks to the software/blockchain to make it better. But it maybe too late for bitcoin
Yeah, I am back. Writing blogs is what I do for now. This one I am just going to brag about living on the beach. I have about 20 min. until I get some homemade french toast and then head off to the beach so this is how I choose to pass the time. I don't know that may be the bragging for the blog. I really just one to point out some thoughts and observations.
Nothing quite like a fresh bagel and flavored cream cheese from a bagel shop that knows what it's doing. The same can be said for homemade strawberry shortcake with plenty of whip cream. Both with a nice cup of strong coffee. I know it would get old after a while but in the moment that is fucking on point.
There is something sexy about a woman carrying a surfboard.
Oh yeah, meat vessels. We are all just meat vessels for the consciousness. That woman inside of a sexy meat vessel attracts me but any time spent on the beach it is quickly realized that advertising is not realistic. Why are we all so worried about looking like outliers? I fall into this too. Since I am not that active and overeat I am at say like 15% body fat. So, not bad but if I really wanted to physically attract a women I would just have to have my own personal style that she is intrigued by and honestly if I got more tattoos. Sun glasses help. Of course it gets down to why don't I have the tattoos I want and it gets back to money and job again and I won't get into that.
We are all just meat vessels though. Think about anyone with the skin and the fat peeled off. That would not be very attractive but that is what we are. I guess what do we find physically attractive in males. Symmetry, height, broad shoulders, narrow waist, strong facial features but probably more important is the social stuff, the status stuff, the money stuff. The former can be conducive to the ladder. I think it is always important to be a bit different though. A purple cow. Well, not always important but it kind of goes with living an authentic life. I am not going to wear the uniform. I am going to wear my own uniform and actually to be honest I am likely not awesome enough to avoid wearing someone else's uniform but I don't have to on my time. I don't have to shop at middle America inc. but I am actually wearing some Tommy Bahama linen shorts right now that are fucking great. I am sure I am still conditioned. We are all conditioned. Fuck it. Who cares. I want to just start wearing baggy linen basketball shorts and baggy linen t-shirts. Just make my own shit.
But fuck you all. It is time for some fucking french toast. I was going to talk about how these days I love playing spades or euchre because I never play poker anymore. I am also interested in bridge. Joining a bridge club would probably be a lot of fun even if I am just playing with 60 year old ladies. I could always get some river boat gambling in but the rake is always silly on those things.
I say fuck off out of love. I wish everyone here happiness and the absence of suffering. It's not going to happen but I still wish it. Minimal dissatisfaction and defiled emotions. That's possible. I wish you all minimal dissatisfaction and defiled emotions.
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