https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2024-02-18/report-son-of-former-youtube-ceo-found-dead-in-uc-berkeley-dorm

Navalny aligned himself with Nazis & had a wild look in his eye. Clearly an egoist. Useful for Western propaganda, though.

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-68266846.amp

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/feb/18/dahomey-france-should-return-much-more-looted-african-art-film-maker-mati-diop-says

jack *russell* leads the way*ve*

https://youtu.be/wQVQ-Zvcj9Q?si=mESQFrNotHB5oTA3

😬 i mean if you survive novichok put in your tightie whities get to germany heal and then voluntarily go back that’s basically asking to be taken out—he decided to be a martyr not an exile

my first vid using AI. i mean…i swapped out like 3/4 of the clips to choose my own. and when i prompted to slow down last 10 seconds of every scene the whole thing screwed up—it altered the entire script so i had to undo. pacing & rhythm doesn’t work well. if you shorten a clip it auto-generates another rather than lengthening the next clip. so, like all tech solves some problems and creates a whole set of new ones.

but i’ll keep at it.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJQyHl2JGtQ&feature=youtu.be

DOES BITCOIN FIX THIS?

usher salary for Super Bowl halftime show:

$671.00

SAG-AFTRA minimum

plus rehearsals, 35 hr workweek:

$1750 / week

(msn.com)

oh but he makes it up on streams & ticket sales…

spotify avg payout to artists per stream:

$.003 - $.005

concerts…i mean we all saw the elvis biopic & heard kanye

so…

DOES BITCOIN FIX THIS?

The Dream Of The Dark Serpent or Sometimes Not Loving Is The Loving Thing To Do

A man crossed a continent and a half plus an ocean or two to visit me.

I had this dream.

He was sitting on the couch between two tall windows in my high-ceilinged apartment.

In the middle of one window a couple feet above his head a giant black serpent appeared, levitating as if moving on an invisible flat plane. Coiled narrow like a shouldered lasso rope so as to fit in the vertical, secessionist style frame. Thick as a cypress trunk, midnight black, (no stars).

Half or perhaps one quarter of the serpent entered the room before it folded back in on itself, disappeared, and re-entered through the other twin window, appearing in one then exiting and poking its way into the other, back and forth, back and forth.

Never fully entering the room, never fully uncoiling, weaving in and out. Always perfectly level, not dipping up or down or moving vertically in any way—perfectly suspended in the air.

A massive, silent, dark beast of a serpent. Shiny, smooth—no scales.

The man sat there completely oblivious to the strange phenomenon occurring right above him. Absolutely blind to it. Absorbed in some other matter—simply not aware.

I sat on this etheric information for about a day.

It seemed impolite to unceremoniously dump someone who came quite a ways merely from a dream. We were supposed to go on a trip. Jagged coasts and boat rides. Sunsets and bathing suits.

But the dream told me that whether or not this man was aware of it he would bring something undesirable and perhaps dangerous into my life. He was a conduit, a carrier of a “dark” something and it did not matter if he was conscious or unconscious, if he himself meant harm or meant well. The darkness may not affect him at all but perhaps would me.

The next day I ended it and that was that—never seen him since.

The moral of this story is:

try to mess with me—

get called out by ESP.

(This story is NOT an endorsement in ANY way of the reptilian conspiracy theory circulating on The Internet. It is a true representation of an actual dream and real life occurrence. All dreams are subject to interpretation.)

Have you ever taken steps in a relationship or made certain decisions because of a dream? Have you ever regretted NOT doing so?

the slimmed down monarchy gets slimmer & slimmer.

A noble is riding through a town in ancient China and passes a potter at work.

“How are you able to form these vessels so that they possess such convincing beauty?”

“Oh,” answers the potter, “you are looking at the mere outward shape.

What I am forming lies within.

I am interested only in what remains after the pot has been broken.”

—read today in “Centering” by M.C. Richards, p13

The Story of the Naked Handyman Who Loved Maple Syrup

reflecting on my two posts today, one involving a handyman and the other maple syrup, reminded me of a story about D.

D., a new referral from my regular carpenter who was unavailable, came by in the morning to do some house repairs. i offered a cup of coffee, as i usually do, and he asked me to add a touch of cream and a splash of maple syrup.

“maple syrup?” i said. “that’s a first.”

“just try it.”

i did.

it is yummy but then it’s sort of like having a morning dessert.

“the best thing,” he continued, “is maple syrup on an avocado half.”

“no,” i replied, “that’s going too far.”

“just try it,” he repeated. “smidge of salt, pour maple syrup in the middle, eat it with a spoon.”

“i don’t believe it.”

but try it i did. and it wasn’t bad per se, merely unusual. something about the consistency.

the work day continued, unabated.

then, as i was calmly preparing my afternoon lunch, the front door burst open and D. frantically appeared in the middle of my living room. without so much as a glance upward he started whipping off his clothes. a now airborne sweatshirt landed on the suede couch, his tee-shirt soon met the wood floor, and i found myself staring at a half-naked handyman.

not the plumber stereotype of a handyman, mind you, no: a proper organic grass-fed meat eating california coast six foot adonis type of a handyman.

“what exactly is it you think you are doing?” i politely asked D.

“well, i know it’s kind of early in our relationship to be stripping down like this, but i have a serious problem.”

“what possibly could it be?” i asked.

“i think i have a tick.”

“a tick? you’ve been around the house not in the field.”

“i must have gotten it yesterday.”

“are you about to take off your pants? please don’t.”

“i’m not taking off my pants, it’s here,” he twisted pointing to his back beneath his underarm, “can you check, please?”

i gingerly advanced and, in fact, it did appear a tiny bug was digging its way into him.

“i hope you are not expecting me to do something about it.”

“you have to get it out. i can’t by myself. it’s dangerous if it’s there longer than a day.”

there is nothing quite as disconcerting as the minuscule moving legs of a blood-sucking arachnid burying itself into soft human flesh.

“there’s a clinic a few minutes drive away, go there.”

he hemmed and hawed and i remembered my neighbor had given me a handy (no pun intended) tick remover tool and desperate D. convinced me to help.

crisis averted, and, although it may disappoint the humble reader who expected a dramatic integration of the aforementioned liquid sweetener to the rescue operation of the nude handyman, no: maple syrup was not involved.

and that concludes the true story of

The Naked Handyman Who Loved Maple Syrup.

if you liked my #story cash app your appreciation to $aristoclea

i write whatever because the whole point is you can migrate everything to another platform that might appear later, right? so: futurepost.

putting maple syrup

on a fried egg

even though

you don’t have pancakes.

why did i only just now realise this player move.

it’s an atmospheric river johnny cash howling winds kind of a day.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PxURXuzRUX4&pp=ygUdam9obm55IGNhc2ggdHJ1ZSBsb3ZlIG9mIG1pbmU%3D

the internet tries to rehabilitate “D. Chauvin.”

i mean i get that i’m a bi-coastal ivy good-for-nothing but i’ve never encountered the term “honey-do.”

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2024/feb/04/honey-do-dude-mississippi-grief-ptsd-loneliness

i meant it as spiritual accounting. let’s say for every indigenous kid found in these graves — not just Canada they are also in the US — God subtracts 800 souls from the perpetrators. and these people call themselves christians. they are the demons. you do genocide you get it back. even if you don’t “get” it. we all know who has blood on their hands. some people think they can inherit wealth and property but not sin. let’s see how that assumption plays out.

https://www.cbsnews.com/amp/news/canada-residential-schools-unmarked-graves-indigenous-children-60-minutes-2022-02-06/

this is so me.

skincare routine: dr. bronner’s magic soap & shea butter at night (now i’m switching to castor oil)

makeup routine: mascara, eyeliner (under eye only who can do top eyeliner it’s impossible), and lip gloss.

not insta worthy as if i care

https://youtu.be/O-C-n6bHtjc?si=zK_y4c9xw_a-ngvZ

“you’ll own nothing, and you’ll be happy.” —> “you’ll be in charge of nothing, and you’ll be happy.”