Friday, June 19, 2015


Or maybe there's some greater cosmic conscious entity that we're all a part of that is the universe aware of itself. And this entity gives us all meaning. Then perhaps that entity is part of an even bigger entity, and so on and so forth.

There's no evidence that we're either important or unimportant. Important implies some instrumental usefulness, correct? Well then, perhaps we are important outside of the individual or human interest, or perhaps not. But certainly the enjoyment of life can be useful in its own right, and the requirements for successful, satisfied life may then become important. Perhaps we would not exist if we did not value the things that make us all satisfied and willing to hope.

I will say this. If there's no greater conscious entity, then really, my own happiness is all that matters, even if it's at your expense. Or think about the case where I actually enjoy your suffering. >:o ! <-- a="" can="" comedic="" emphasize="" evil.="" face="" implies="" interpretation="" nbsp="" of="" see="" span="" that="" this="" with="" you="">

Are we merely working together conveniently to become more comfortable? Or is there perhaps a God to please? You decide for yourself. But there will usually be people willing to fight the idea that there's no super-consciousness. Sometimes people call this hypothesis God. Sometimes they merely say they are spiritual. In any case, it's the only reason anyone has ever been able to think of to counter people with great power and huge selfishness. Certainly we must be connected!

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Minimum Wage in Seattle

Do not let the unexplained destroy you!

Subtract out the base minimum living cost for the median American worker from his expected earnings, and consider the new value a more meaningful income value. This is what is known as net earnings.

wage - rent - vehicle - tax - food - basic utilities (including cell phone) -security*= net earnings

* Security needs include formal protection against violent crime. But it also requires an adversarial check on security forces, like community police that regulate the official police forces, so that any one community will not be forced to abide by the laws governing the whole land. It also requires non-intrusive protection against psychic manipulation. Together,this would ensure a democratic audit of the government. We need our own army. And it needs to be populated with the wealth of a great many workers. Otherwise, we will receive insufficient disposable income from the collective net earnings to voice our opinion politically.

Our collective net earnings = the number of participating individual workers * the pittance value.

We need to change the political system from fascism to radical socialism. And we need to do so quickly! It may already be too late!

Yes, that is one of our basic needs, and we need it to survive.

Your net earnings are what you've earned after you've paid a basic living expense that cover your basic needs, such as food, shelter, air, water, and safety and health. I think you'll find that the median net earnings are a pittance value compared against the net earnings of a CEO, who earns 300x the wage of a standard worker, who is probably suffering just as much working at that necessary position. A CEO's net earnings can be tens of thousands of times greater than a worker's net earnings. We will fight them against the King. We will fight them on collective bargaining. We will fight them against the self-proclaimed elite. We will fight them against robots.

Minimum wage: The government forces employers to pay their employees enough for them to survive. Collective bargaining: The employees are allowed to argue for enough wages to survive, backed by the threat of organized civil disobedience or even outraged violence, a labor strike. Workers who do not comply with unionization do not receive jobs. Minimum wage is very similar to collective bargaining. In fact, in Sweden unions perform the function of the federal government in America, and Sweden has no minimum wage at all! I would prefer that America replaced its government with a federalized worker union, not a corporate oligarchy. That is in our best interests as the American people. The fascist Corporate world destroyed American Unions and then illegalized their strategic significance, like they did with weed. Look into a private espionage agency called the Pinkerton Institute. You will be amazed with the departure from whatever freedom was supposed to mean.

Proof that the NSA is nothing new. The only way to restore Unions would be to create a secret society where promotion is governed by the use of a reliable polygraph machine. This is to ensure that private military grade intelligence services are not employed by the corporate world in order to bust the workers' attempts to defend our interests. Then we hope they can't beat our polygraph! So we need to find a reliable one. I think EEG thought reading and mind mapping look like a good way to do it. So we see how his brain is used to move his body, and we take over that process from the current executive function. If we can apply this idea towards ensuring the loyalty of our followers, like with complete loss of information privacy. Memory access would be involved.

It's pretty bad trying to encrypt our information transfer the hard and obsolete way, without sufficient polygraph technology. The NSA has cracked all of humanity's formal encryption ability. So computer encryption is out of the question! You would have to write your own cipher.

I am currently working on one, but I don't know how long it's going to take me. It might take me years, as I do not have enough perquisite training to answer the question expediently. I'm reading an intermediate level text on computer systems, as I want a strong foundation. I would need to know what I'm doing so as to create a logically perfect encryption algorithm, one with decidedly no backdoor.

Then I could simply put it up on the internet with a mathematical proof of its working, and the gig would be up. Telepathy would be discovered. The take home lesson? Telepathy works better than encryption, since ultimately you can simply extract the useful information from the human worker, if that's not protected at all. Workers have need, and I am not talking about tin foil hats exactly, to shield themselves against detrimental programming. And it must be done through exposure of telepathic communication. In order to do this, we must first develop a defense against having our minds read.

If you know anyone who has anything to do with neurophysics and the development of synthetic telepathy, you must convince this person, even if it is yourself, to develop such a defense for the good of all humanity.

I don't think the mind knows how to not think about something that is being talked about. The correct answers ought to simply flow into the machine. Or at least an honest perspective, which is all our big ideas like Justice even care about.

Monday, April 13, 2015

IED = Land Mine!!!

If you could read American minds...

Bibi : Yon tov, Yon tov
Dick: Halliburton, Halliburton?
Bibi: Yon tov, Yon tov
Abe: Anti-Semite, anti-Semite!!!
Dick: Halliburton, Halliburton!
Fox: Halliburton, Halliburton, Yon tov, Yon tov!!!
Marine: Land mine, land mine!!!
Dick: Gold mine, gold mine!!!
Marine: Freedom? Jewmitary? Land mine?
Dick: Freedom! IED... anti-Semite? Gold mine, Gold mine!!!

I have more peanut story coming; I've been distracted with taking care of an adorable little puppy, who is at the vet right now.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Westershire: Cheap Peanuts for The Masses pt. 2

That last statement pulled both men out of their pleasant reveries. Gaelor remembered his business manners, straightened his cotton vest, and pulled up his chin.

"Right, of course. So what brings you here today, Mr. Farmer?"

"Well, I've got a full load of peanuts, lying in the 'ole cart back there. Are you still buying at the same price?"

"A copper piece a tentame, like usual. No fluctuations in demand at the marketplace. Loxim says all his parchments add up just right. I'll bring out the scale."

Mr. Breckerstone practically skipped through the door to his back office, excited to grab his shiny new brass scale, which he had recently purchased from Farnan the Smith. Meanwhile, Gregory Farmer strolled out to haul a heaping sack of freshly harvested peanuts from the back of his cart. He lugged the sack over his left shoulder and tottered unevenly back into the shop. He made a mental note to visit to Ranjan later, to see if the carpenter could build a small wooden dolly, this time one with wheels. Or maybe he would just buy some smaller sacks. Back inside the shop, he met Gaelor finishing his calibration with the metal blocks you had to buy from Lord Tame.

"Excellent, just bring those over here, Greg; I've got it all evened out for a tentame."

Greg observed the apparatus, which had a tentame block on one side, sealed with the Lord's brand, and a wooden cup on the other, which from experience both parties knew held about a tentame of peanuts. Everything looked solid, so Farmer heaved his bag onto the counter and untied the twine holding it closed at the top. He poured a good amount into the cup. Critical hit, it was perfect.

"Allright, Greg, that's one", said Gaelor, "let me just pour that into my bag over here and make a tally on my chart. You want a copy as usual, right? Ok, let me just make a tally on this copy over here, as well. And let's go ahead and measure the next tentame.

This process continued all day long, with Greg bringing sacks of dirty peanuts into the shop, and Gaelor helping him to measure them out, very carefully. By sunset, both parchments were full of tallies, Greg's cart was empty, and Gaelor's backroom was full of fresh peanuts. Greg took his tally sheet; Gaelor took his own. They both agreed on the same number, one-hundred and thirty tentames.

Gaelor handed Greg a glittering gold piece and three shiny silver coins. Both were exhausted, and the oxen needed to be fed. The journey home would feel long, but it still wasn't as bad as digging in the dirt all day, collecting the crop. Greg took his coins, placed them in a small velvet sack, and stood up. It was time to go home.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Westershire: Cheap Peanuts for The Masses pt. 1

Once upon a time, there lived a humble peanut farmer in the rolling plains of Westershire. His name was Gregory Farmer, and he served the noble Lord Chipper Tame. Greg occupied a pleasant wooden cottage on the edge of a three acre plot, within whose borders he felt safe; he delivered a small, discrete velvet sack of golden coins to Lord Tame on the third of each tenday.

Now, not thirty minutes away by oxen-driven cart, a modestly sized shop stood. On a sunny Fourthsday afternoon, Mr. Gaelor Breckerstone might be found there behind a finely crafted wooden counter, tallying marks on a piece of parchment and waiting to be noticed. This was one such Fourthsday, and Greg Farmer was just stepping off his cart. He fed each of his two oxen a single sugar cube. They were a little pricey, but these were study and hard-working oxen. Gaelor looked up as he heard the pleasant lowing that resulted from this treatment.

Gregory walked into the shop, and he said, "Blessings of Tymora upon you, Mr. Breckerstone. How are the wife and kids?"

Gaelor smiled amiably, "Oh you know how it is, Greg. The wife always wants a new dress, and my daughter needs that popular adventurer toy."

Everyone knew everyone in Westershire. Greg's mind filled with nostalgic thoughts about his own daughter, Lizzy, her face covered in dirt, running into the cottage, followed closely by Fran, Gaelor's pretty little girl. That was a rainy Sixthsday, some months ago, and his wife had been horribly upset about needing to mop up all that mud. Covertly, Gaelor enjoyed the commotion.

"Oh, yes, of course she does. I think I heard a rumor or two about those whittled masterpieces. Ranjan the Carpenter started making those at his shop, isn't that right? And Julius the Tailor now sells little vials of dye and feather paintbrushes so the kids can personalize those things. I haven't seen either character in ages. Anyway, let's get down to business."

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Crime Really Doesn't Pay, After All

Can coercively seizing someone's information without just cause be considered assault, for example by threatening to put someone in a situation that revokes their financial security if they do not hand over their birthdate, DL number, address, and full legal name? If so, I just got assaulted and then fired for attempting to figure out how to defend myself against this work of structural violence. Now today, I feel insecure that an untrusted entity has taken so much information about me, photocopied it, and put it in a database, all without my willful consent. 

And I need a new job. Who's hiring? On the bright side, all this has given me incredible insight into identity theft.

So, let's say hypothetically  I've invented a somewhat risky (though honestly people are retarded so not that risky) scheme to steal about 50k/year from the 1%. It's hugely convoluted and would probably entail the equivalent of a full-time job in labor hours. But then I went onto and discovered that physicians make at least 200k/year, or like 120k/year after taxes. Let's give myself a 20k/year cushion, even though this is more than the median personal income. That pays for medical school or whatever. I'm also grossly underestimating salary*.

So, from this data, I can conclude that working as a physician produces about 2x as much, at least, as my incredibly clever scheme to "arbitrage" the 1% market, if you will. And it's not even a tested procedure. Then, logically, every hour I would work as a doctor would take more from society than a hour of determined labor as an identity thief. Gee, I wonder why all the ultra-smart identity thieves don't just become doctors instead?

Or for that matter, why don't black people in the hood become medical assistants instead of marijuana footsoldiers, since these each pay about equally. I think Marco Rubio should go to a project in Detroit and fucking ask that question. God dammit.

Instead, there's all this shady research on how black people are genetically violent criminals. Well, maybe not. Maybe being a criminal simply paid more than working at McDonald's. After all, I would reasonably expect a slum-negro to jump at the chance at making 50k/year reading radiology charts rather than dodging armed troops and trying to sell chemical happiness.

*Estimated Physician Salary

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Ghostwriter: The Unpublished Marvel

Read this very carefully to find out exactly what happens to a genius who wasn't born rich. Click. Read. Learn. Enjoy your sarcastic Deity.

Let me help you out with this one; if he's writing books for some of the smartest CEO's in business, then he's probably smarter than all of them. Or else why didn't they write their own books? They didn't have time? Well, how did this guy find time working fiendishly at a book plant managing 250 people, perhaps without even having a college degree. Or is that where all his extra time came from? And trust me, all along the way, people were trying to get him fired. He's so smart he was a threat to management.