Thoughts - Despondency and Desolation
When placed into a reluctant situation, I am able to exhibit a cowardly fascia...by choice. Resolute and prepared, I can readily choose to display confidence and assertion. What hinges these reactions are based on extroverted intake...a melodramatic prose in order to obtain a response. In versa of each scenario, what is defined is the exemplification of the objectivity of survival diplomacy. Not once in my existence has the weeping not been uninhibited as particularly illustrated by a friend’s passing. What bothers me and brings my attention to construct a dialogue in such is that I still find the utilization of articulated distress a functional device though it surely is abstract from general character and only goes to create detrimental perceptions. With candor, there are intensified moments presented that in fact devise a manifestation of expression thanks in part to conditioning however in large part these expressions are regulated and subsequently a concoction of deception and that is a failing in my disposition. I must find reparations to this ailing.

I just overheard an Opus Dei Catholic priest discern the “Da Vinci Code” as fiction in contrast to “Passion of the Christ” as factual. I intend to simplify this retort without meandering towards the deficiencies of the very story of Via Dolorosa by exclaiming reports from producers of the film stating that though intent on staying faithful to the New Testament, they utilized numerous extra-biblical elements to satiate the screenplay. Numerous religious scholars have also publicly objected to several specifics presented by the film as disparity from documents observed...and then there is the very constituents that the stations of the cross have been overtly re-enumerated and altered by several Popes over the last 400 years...but that is just wandering into another territory. In fact, to note...I recently read a new article regarding the unlikelihood of crucifying Jesus when in fact, a man presented in character as Jesus was to the Roman Empire...he would have been stoned and hung. Once again, I don’t defy reason that Jesus of Nazareth existed...only his status as a deity and savior...crap. I almost went on a tangent into a long speech. We’ll cut out here and move on.

With this in regard, I have decided to now add James Randi’s Educational Foundation’s website to my internet links. James Randi is a skeptic of a general extent of paranormal assessments and actually challenges those delusionals with an opportunity to be rewarded with a substantial cash prize for demonstrations under scientifically measured conditions. How many have accepted this challenge? You know all too well that none have and no one ever will.

Here are a very few recommendations for the coming fall television season which without the already marginal of established programming going forward, this pending television season may in fact be the most dismal in small screen history.

‘Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip’ which is created a written by Aaron Sorkin.
‘Lucky Louie’ is an uncensored live studio audience sitcom to appear on HBO.

I have updated the Employment History page to now reflect average hours, average wages following tax reductions and the subsequent average gross income. Totals are also then devised based on years employed which initiated around year 16. As of print, number 80 has not been acquired...yet I assure it will emerge in the near future...hopefully.

Link: Employment History

And what a douche I am. I recently purposed the idea of actually submitting to suggestions of parting my time to author and sustain websites as a means of income. I then in turn sat for a mere few moments in this chair before being absolutely repulsed by saturating my already misguided and unfocused time on something I am not proficient at accomplishing...how deceived I betray myself. I one day welcome the prospects of designing internet websites on an tangential parallel with someone endowed with the aptitude to implement my unadulterated designs in differentiation of the existing flaw of my own shorted expertise.
Draft - South Pole Laboratory
Here is an extremely primordial and ventured sketch for the expectations of a South Pole laboratory to be utilized as a research station and retreat for myself and any interested accompaniments. It will certainly not come to a culmination for numerous years so expect copious amounts of drafts and alterations before finalization which I assure you will remain confidential.


Qualification Curriculum
Presently I am experiencing a moderate involuntary preparation program for forthcoming ventures into inhospitable locations and within this self analysis, there is some degree of revelation to discerning more imperatively the destination of choice.


The Farce of Emotions - Section Forty Seven Chapter Three
Just a moment ago, I experienced a momentary insight into the psychology of my genetic disposition which goes to proliferate the heart of isolating emotions from biological existence.

Anger makes me happy.

Those are paradoxical expressions of sentiments as defined by sensitivities habituated throughout humanity. Subsequently in relation to the universal perceptions that characterize happiness...invalidation of consistency defies biological cohesion...or...the only remaining alternative is that I am genetically asymmetrical and frankly...that is just preposterous.
Humbled Scars
Today has been marked as the worst day experienced in 10,292 days (28 years and 72 days) which in essence is my entire life. Tiers of populace disappear around me parting me the sensation of barrenness and subsequent loneliness the while I find myself plundered and desperate for provisions to make amenable means. I am unsure with sincerity for the first time in a very long time the while one displacent seraph beckons bravado...and I plead. I cannot merit hope or faith as amends for the days grow longer and more weary regardless that instance to resolution condenses. Fight or flight gestures my will though in abstracts not viable to that seraph or as means to self atonement. It is the unsurity that has tormented mankind for eons that I now give way to. My blood chills and the hours of darkness becomes a hollowed mistress.

And here I rest...questioning the propensity of deed and the conviction of burden. Knowing as I have for those days past, that it is of my own doing and of my own misgivings. And here I rest...stranded within the weeds grown around my stilled pace. Shouting for change, and imparting none. What befell of this geniused guise?