Daniel 23; Evil Spirit 17 (I had an extra point blocked)

"It's Tuesday," said  Sandy, the caseworker, who has recently undergone some rather drastic changes in physiology; notably a pretty full beard has grown upon her face and her voice is actually lower and more gruff than my own. Nichole, the caseworker assigned to me, now refers to Sandy as "he," or "him" and Sandy's car is now "his car," etc...

I think I  know what's going on, here.

One might think  that nobody here at Sacred Heart has noticed these changes. I was talking to Nichole, my own caseworker, and said: "I was going to ask Sandy if she was Andy, now.."

To which Nichole  instantly rebuked me with: "Don't!" That would be somehow a bad thing to ask Sandy. I'm supposed to go on with life and act as if Andy never was Sandy the kind of masculine lady who is the caseworker for, Jr., for one...

"So, are you  'Andy,' now?" How the hell could I be in the wrong for asking that. The alternative is to "Don't believe your eyes," don't even allude to the fact that you noticed a full beard having grown on Sandy's cheeks and ask about it. I would imagine that this is a big deal to Sandy, who is probably about 40 years old and, if she is transitioning into a man, she probably rues the fact that she is arriving to the party late in regards to the sexual motivations for someone who wants to switch into the body of the opposite gender...

"I bet you  wish you could have become a man back when you were 20 and could have sex with a bunch of young, hot females!" would seem like something that might resonate with...him...

But, no. I'm  supposed to play along with this game and pretend there has been no "transition" here, only a correction that uncovered Andy who had been there all along, but had been cacooned inside a female body, or or some bullshit...

But, my point  is that I found out today is Tuesday from it.

The Winn Dixie  up the street that's closing in 5 days now, has upped their discount to 75% and so I got a bottle of wine that I had always felt was beyond my means (do I want to get a lucrative job, that would kick me out of free housing yet afford me the ability to drink a $25 bottle of wine every night with my meal..?) for like 5 bucks. It's very, very good; but not sublime.

The "Federalist" Cabernet  Sauvignon was that...causing me to say: "Oh, my God!" with each sip.

Of course, this  was a compliment to the sardine-only diet I was on and the two were symbiotically compatable...

I bought Harold  a bigger can ($2.39!) of the healtier-than-Friskies type of foods that they sell, which come labelled "human quality,' which means you could actually eat off the same plate, and bond with your pet that way, if you were to set aside your pride for a minute, type of thing..

I hope this  post is made pretty by my python script; plenty of pastel colors against a black background...

I might have  to make an "app" of it and upload it through github for android, so that other bloggers can...wait, I keep forgetting that blogs are a thing of the past. Now you want to let AI create an irresistible thumbnail in preparation for posting on X, or Tik Tok...never mind...

I got a  frozen turkey for like $3.45 at Winn Dixie -a 12 pounder (other people had snatched up the heavier 'young' turkeys, probably thinking that, if they were getting a frozen turkey for just $3.45, why not get a 14 pound one, instead of a 12 pound one) and it's in the oven, in a turkey roasting bag, right now and will be ready by about 9 o' clock tonight. It's 7:07 now...

The sardine (oyster,  crab meat, fat-free chicken breast, and soon to be turkey) only diet has had a noticeable effect on my overall well-being...

I can hold  in my mind an overarching sense of what I am trying to do and, for example, limit myself to a half hour of trying to configure a python script that will let me download Youtube videos. Of course there are hoops to jump through; conceivably, because maybe Youtube want's everyone to pay for "Premium," in order to facillitate this. But, computer hackers and those in the know, know how to do things and I've gotten as far as acquiring the script to do so, but it won't yet run, because I need to get a Python "module" that is more modern than the laptop I'm using. I guess downloading Youtube videos for free was not built into the older hardware....

The sardine-only diet  is miraculous. That being said, I went up front to the lobby and, there was a guy in a wheelchair with bandages wrapped around his feet because, I think he's had toes or something amputated -I'm not sure if the "medical doctors" have worked their way up to his ankles yet; and I don't really know how I would ask...

"So, how much  have you had amputated, so far?"

I would bet  a lot of money that, if that guy quit sugar, to include the sugar in those 32 ounce cans of Milwaukee's Best, which are brewed with the less expensive high fructose corn syrup (we would do that in jail, but, out here in the free world, I don't know...but it does provide the cheapest option) he would see a reveral in his "type" whatever the fuck, "diabetes."

I think it's  sad that these Africans, a lot of whom are incredibly healthy back in whatever area of Africa they came for...

It's not that  they were too stupid to build ships and make weapons out of metal and venture out across the globe conquering..it's that they were smart enough to realize that this gift of life that was given to us could be much better spent...

They had very  strong "perfect," even, teeth.

My teeth are  falling out of my head; and this is because of the intellience that my body has directing it to get rid of the teeth that had been filled with lead, yes, that's right lead. A very heavy metal....

My body was  like: I'm going to let this tooth decay happen, in an otherwise healthy body and make these fillings fall out, by hook or by crook, type of thing...

But this obese  fellow resident was in his wheelchair eating microwave popcorn out of a bag...

I could have  told him that that kind of diet would wreck me.

He could have  thought "that's because we can handle the microwave popcorn; the white man is weak!!"

And then I  would have just gone to Winn Dixie for wine and a turkey roasting bag; and found a fat roach of some really good sticky icky along the way...

I suppose "Sticky  Icky Along The Way" is the working title for whatever I now go to do on my Digital Audio Workstation; having sucessfully divided my time between like 45 minutes blogging, and 23 hours and 15 minutes of the rest of life...

I pray for  you all and, if this whole universe turns out to be a cosmic dream...I pray for you all again

You have just read 1230 words

Wish Me Luck, As I'm Beset By The Evil Spirit

I just got  back from the Winn Dixie that is closing in 6 days...

I got a  $25 turkey (a 'young' one, so exciting in an Epstein kind of vibe, but I digress..) for like $3.45..

Why I didn't  just grab 5 of them and kiss goodbye any future food security is beyond me.

I just might,  after drinking the excellent old vine Zinfidel that I always wanted to try but couldn't afford at $21 a bottle, but got for 8 bucks, go back there and grab the last 5 frozen turkeys...the only thing that is causing resistance to that idea is the fact that the turkeys might have been kept cooped up in tiny enclosures and fed chemicals and all that kind of crap.

They are the  cheap kind of birds -the low flyers- that were "only" like $28 to begin with; and, even though I got one for like $3.45, they might not be the healthiest option as far as what to eat and everything...

I have been  through so much; have travelled many roads and...

I recovered my  sense of health and vitality within like a day and a half after I stopped drinking the coffee that might have been sprayed with chemicals to make it smell like good coffee; and switched to the Swedish stuff that I balked at spending almost 30 bucks a bag for, but got for 11 bucks. I feel really great...

I'm not bragging  nor trying to rub in the face of the people who are truly suffering; having limbs amputated because they have been brainwashed into thinking that things are great because the commercials say they are...

I would love  to go get a half gallon of ice cream and some soda and come home and get high on the sugar rush, but I'm not going to do it. I have too strong a constitution to allow myself to sucumb to such a sweet temptation.

I'm going to  get a $20 hit of crack and some Viagra type of stuff; and put on a porn movie, and  just try to take my mind off of the ice cream soda -that stuff is just bad news...resist the devil and he will flee, type of thing...try to stay the course!
This zero carb diet that has paid such amazing dividends after just two weeks in... 
I'm committed.
Don't want to sabotage it now. So I'm off to see my dealer on Tulane Street. 
Wish me luck, 15 followers.

You have just read 391 words

Suppress The Oppressors!!

I knew that  the Winn Dixie up the street is soon going to close to make way for an Aldi's Market or something. I didn't know that everything in the store was going to be sold off at steep discounts.

The 'stats' tell a different story...

That was until  I went there yesterday to find a mostly empty store with all the merchandise slid to the ends of the shelves closest to the registers.

Coming in with  only 6 days left until the doors close forever, as I did, I felt the knowledge hit me that, for the past month or so, I had been paying 60% more than I had to on whatever I had eaten..

I shook my  head, was unable to find sardines, and so took liberties with the sardine fast and substituted crab meat, oysters, and a can of fat free chicken breast meat, of the more healthy (expensive) kind...

There was a  bag of ground coffee, Imported from Sweden that always looked good whenever I had seen it in the store. Good, and expensive...

But, at 60%  off of the usually $28 bag, I decided to bag one...

And then, a  "$20" bottle of 2018 Bogle Cabernet Sauvignon, which rang up at $6.49 for some reason that I didn't question, and the last can of Fancy Feast in the store completed my frolic. Harold would be stuck with salmon pate... 
 

The total of what I spent coming to exactly $40.00 even, was an odd enough "against the odds" coincidence to make me think that the handful of cashiers, with only 2 registers open, who are going to be replaced in less than a week; might be just winging it and rounding everything to the nearest dollar and, (I wouldn't blame them if they were) perhaps skimming a little cream off the top on their way out the door, type of thing.

They were the  older black ladies, one kind of plump with a butch type hair style, the other a skinny one. Out of all the employees in there, they have been the ones I have gotten smiles out of. Some of the 99% African American staff in there cast dirty looks upon me and generally would only take their headphones off long enough to say "I don't know," before replacing them, every time I had attempted to say: "There's no price on the cherries," or something. They wouldn't "know," because they hadn't heard the question cause they had their headphones in and only saw my lips move, so they *were* being honest....

But, the older  ladies were in high spirits, talking and laughing...

Today I think  I'm going to acquire cash before going there and, after they ring my stuff up, that I'm going to aim for being in the $35 range, I'm going to say; "Would you take $20 cash for it?" wink wink...type of thing..

I want my  Roberto Mondavi Private Selection 2018 Cabernet Sauvignon for 5 bucks, c'mon, work with me!! -type of thing...

I'm happy to  have the new toy of my Python3 script encouraging me to get back to blogging again..

I am realizing  I bore more responsibility for the drop in readership from around 600 people a day, from all over the world, to about 15 a day..

There were some  dark periods, around "the lockdown," when my alcohol, weed, fentnyl, viagra and porn addiction might have been tending to bleed over into my creative writing endeavors; try as I may have been doing to compartmentalize the two... lol

I fell out  of the habit of adding labels, search descriptions and alternative text to photos; and of writing subject matter that won't trigger the algorithm to 'suppress' the posts..

That is the  word that "they" used when I used Meta AI to investigate this drop in eyeballs and prove to me that I hadn't been shadow banned. "Shadow banned, hahaha, we get that all the time; no, no, no. Blogs themselves have fallen out of fashion, have you considered trying Substack, or maybe X, where you might find more like minded people, and not have your posts suppressed.

...than the impression of suppression given, to perhaps make me rethink things and "correct my course," and start being more pro-antifa, or something...

I think that  word is intentionally being used as a dog whistle and a nod to some 'suppress the opressor' ideoloy over at Alphabet, but I digress and am risking becoming a victim of suppression...

You have just read 700 words

You Can Lead A Horse To Water And Then Shove A Huge Syringe Full Of It Down Its Gullet And Force It To Drink!

Here is some  good information of the kind that usually comes to me sandwiched between videos that claim to "debunk," it, created by people who are paid to "Just debunk it; throw the kitchen sink at it; lie, create doubt and confusion; say that the doctor is banging this chick; generate AI photos to prove it; I don't have to tell you all this; I'm preaching to the choir. $40 for every 10,000 views; good luck!" -General Foods appreciates all your fine work, type of thing... 

"You might even want to "present" in a lab coat, as this is effective against the boomer generation, who've been conditioned to think things like: 'They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true,' which is problematic, when it comes to videos like the one you're being tasked to debunk. 

But, to a lot of boomers, a lab coat is pretty much unassailable...

Or this video would arrive with a 'fact check' appended, stating that: the FDA -those conscientious, and caring mRNA spike protein vax producers, responsible for a good share of injuries (allegedly) all in the interest of promoting some globalist agenda (which will eventually include the reduction of the populations of about 7 nations, who've demonstrated that they can't co-exist with the rest of "us") - has not validated any of these claims.
Keep eating whatever looks good on TV, boomers; let's restore some common sense, here! -type of thing...

You have just read 109 words

I used to be anti-meat. 

35 years down the road, there are still meat and dairy products that put me in a funk. Those, though, I have found to be grain fed meats, full of growth hormones and blood full of the adrenaline that could be expected to be found in animals being cruelly slaughtered and full of fear, as the guillotine blade falls; chickens full of antibiotics, etc.

I was judging all such protein based upon what wound up on the school lunch trays, and the resultant 'out of whack' histamine levels they produced in my body, which the medical doctors of the day interpreted as "signals."

They went by these, in order to help them match me, through some list with symptoms on one side, and drugs on the other to medications, billable to my health insurance. 

A sad situation for me in 1985, but a bi-annual Caribbean vacation for Doctor LeDonne MDD..

I will note that, during one of my visits, though, he said :

"What you really need is to go to Florida and lie in the sun for a couple weeks." 

It was a dreary February day in Massachusetts when he said this, and he punctuated the statement with a wink. 

Almost like he knew the game, but liked me enough because I had been his caddy a couple times at Oak Hill Country Club, when I was 9 or 10 years old, to bless me with the wink. 

Almost as if saying: I need to make a living off of the ignorant masses, who are going to be the liberal progressives 35 years from now..the ones who will believe anything, as long as they see it all day, every day on their phones which won't be invented for another 10 years, or so...
"Just don't tell anyone else about the Florida thing..."

Script To Pretty-Up These Posts; And Sardine Diet Revisited

I entitled the   last post in reference to: "The Sardine Diet...etc.," 

It turns you green, but is otherwise healthy...

Then, I never   got around to addressing that particular, out of the dietary adjustments I have been making of late. That was almost like an artifact of the pre-sardine diet, with its concomitant brain fog and reduced general awareness.

I liken that   lifestyle to trying to navigate through a maze and becoming paralyzed by indecision about whether to turn left, or right, at a certain juncture, without realizing that I could scale the wall and climb out of the whole structure; just walk along the tops of the walls taking the shortest distance out...

My apologies for   the size of the text in the post; I'm still tweeking my Python3 script that pretties up these posts. I'm still trying to get it to randomly select pastel colors for each paragraph. The hard part is writing the function so it doesn't randomly choose the same exact color for consecutive paragraphs. I tried using an "inverse" approach, so that the next one would be the inverse color -like yellow is the inverse of purple, or gray the inverse of green or whatever it is (you have to stare at like an orange object then close your eyes to see its inverse in the after image, blue, I believe is what your orange would look like with your eyes closed).

But this had   the unwanted side effect of inverting the colors visibility against my almost black background, chosen out of Blogger's "theme"s for post backgrounds. A nice bright pastel yellow would be followed by an almost invisible purple, type of thing.

Making it so   that capitalized words would be bold-faced became another challenge when I realized that the first word in every sentence is capitalized, according to convention -unless you are e.e. cummings or something...

So, it was:   bold-face every capital word, unless it's the very first word of the whole document; or it is preceded by a period (or single or double exclamation mark or anything else I've used over the past 20 years here, to end sentences with...

I've made a   few tweaks and will now send this through the mangle. Maybe put a Capitalized Word or Three here to see if it renders OK...

I'm still not   out of the woods, so to speak, because a typo, such as accidentally ending a sentence with a "#," or something, has the potential to crash the whole script. And to think those were the kind of things that dissuaded me from continuing the pursuit of a career in computer programming, back in the 1980's...

Now comes the   test# The first word of this sentence should NOT be bold-face; but probably is...

I've been on   the sardine diet for 7 days, now, and have a lot less anxiety and no depression upon waking (and realizing that life sucks and then you die, type of thing...)

You have just read 490 words

The Sardine Fast: Metabolic Reset, One Fish At A Time

Autophagy -the word   the algorithm refuses to recognize. A red squiggly line gets inserted under that word (as well as the word "kratom") by the text editor which Messenger™ defaults to.

It's as if   Big Pharma and Big Tech are colluding to discourage people from thinking that it's even a word, never mind a reference to something that could potentially be related to reduced profits for "healthcare" agencies.

Don't fast and   detox intermittently and let your body self heal; we've got some amazing pills to do that! -type of thing...

I broke the   6 day water-and-pink-salt diet. I don't have a scale but the three quarters of an inch flab I had around my abdomen like a spare tire (for a racing bike) has shrunk.

I was euphoric   and satiated as I lived off of my fat, plus having all the "fat soluble" THC from any weed I might have smoked the past 21 days or so reentered my blood stream...

The next thing   I'm going to make an effort to regulate is my sleep habits...

Thinking back to   the times I was in peak health, I was sleeping in a tent in the woods, usually from about 1:30 am., until I was good and rested, maybe by 9:14 am., or so.

The sunlight in   my eyes had the effect of snapping me fully awake and preparing me for a highly-charged "homeless busker" lifestyle.

The food I   was pulling out of a dumpster behind a Winn-Dixie turned out to be about 7% carbs; 25% protein; and the rest, fat (with the olive oil that I sauteed fresh, often "oily," fish in, over a fire contributing).

Fast forward 20   years and there are now people wearing lab coats in Youtube videos with titles like: "Eat This, And Never Get Sick!"

I'm waiting for   one of them to put the crowning touch on the diet by mentioning: "And 2 or 3 glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon is more than just alright, but rather, an important addition..."

I used to   call it "the meal of life." 12 ingredients comprising the entire diet..

Using my own   body as a laboratory for food experimentation, as I have done, probably never would have occured had I not been blessed with almost debilitating "eczema," as a youth...

My first 3   day juice fast and cleanse was a eureka moment, when I found that I was comfortable in my own skin, beyond what I could have imagined, as soon as I was totally emptied of food, with my pee being as clear as water...

Note: Whenever I   have gone onto r/eczema on Reddit and have tried to help people who have posted under titles like "Don't know how much longer I can live like this, I've tried everything!" I have often drawn the most snarky comments from the same "people?" I'm trying to help, like: "You self righteous POS! You know nothing about me; nothing about my history! You can take your fad fish diet and f** off! I tend to take advice from Phd.'s in Biology, not street musicians. I hope you die a painful, protracted death!" type of thing...

My comments are   demoted and elbowed out so that the discussions about pharmaceuticals "If Dupixident™ isn't working; there's this other drug..."

Sure, keep eating   cereal in milk, a sleeve of white powdered doughnuts washed down with orange soda for breakfast; but switch to this new drug.

The incidents of   people becoming sterile from it are highly rare; don't listen to people like street musician Daniel; he's probably a bot; or worse, someone who supports RFK Jr...the guy who's trying to take away our state provided honey buns and government funded Cool Ranch Doritos™!

Screw him! Instead...have   you heard of this new eczema medication on the market; some of the preliminary results have been encouraging...?

So, circadian rhythms   are on my mind now. Getting a half hour of sunlight at about the same time every morning is something I'm being intuitively drawn to..

Having spent no   money on food, alcohol, weed or any of the other debaucherous indulgences that a full-stomached, drunk and stoned guy might be tempted into; has been priceless (pun intended).

I went out   yesterday and walked 3/4 mile to Walgreen's, where I got keto test strips, creatine monohydrate, q-tips for Harold's ears, paper coffee filters, alkaline water and a Rockstar™ sugar free energy drink.

I was thinking   that the latter would give me energy for walking home, since I was still at the stage of fasting where I would see stars in my eyes if I stood up quickly, type of thing...

So, that day   became a referendum on Rockstar™ energy drinks, as that was definitely the only thing in my stomach.

When trying to   balance all the stuff in my arms, standing in line, I had dropped the Rockstar™ and the young lady behind me was nice enough to pick it up and balance it in my arms...

So, once outside   I opened it; and at least a third of the contents erupted out of the can like a beer would have...

I had to   smile over how the Lord saw to it that 2/3 of a Rockstar™ sugar free drink would be enough for me, in the state I was in.

Had I been   in, say, Colorado, the contents might not have exploded out because of the altitude...right?

Here it is   Friday at 7 past midnight; and the 'reset' continues; bleeding over into efforts at decluttering the apartment..

I sometimes think   if my room had my bed, my guitar and whatever lesson book I was studying out of, and nothing else...that would be optimal...

The heigtened sense   of smell, combined with the contageosness of cleanliness -wanting the inner to be reflected in the immediate environment has prompted me to clean the kitchen and empty the trash at the slightest trace of odor eminating from it...

What sucks is   noticing how strong the smell of auto exhaust is when just walking along the sidewalks outside...

✨  

You've just read 1001 words

Isolationism And Water Fasting

This is early  Monday morning, approaching 3 am.

I'm aware that  I'm spending a lot of time watching Youtube.

Right now it's  Game 7 of the 1984 NBA finals, Lakers vs. Celtics, on my screen.

I love the  car commercials. I've owned about 3 of the models advertised. Boy, did I like my Mazda 626. I bought that in 1995, it was 9 years old, at the time, and I think $2,800..

I got it  at one of the many "buy here, pay here" type dealerships that were scattered around the Middleburg, Florida area.

We lived so  far out in 'the sticks' (one mile to the nearest store; 6 miles to the Winn Dixie grocery store) that, unless you were able to work at home, selling quail eggs, or working on cars; you needed a car..

And so, these  dealers would basically let you just take one of theirs off the lot, then start paying like 35 bucks a week, until either the car died, and they gave you another one (adding the balance owed on the dead one to its price ) or they fixed it, and added the repair charge onto what you owed on the resuscitated thing.. At least the didn't charge interest on the balance (probably only because that would be illegal, with them not being banks).

That's 80 months  (almost 12 years) to pay off a car that would then be about 23 years old, in my case. But, everyone in Middleburg could have a car if they could make the minimum payment of $35 a week.

I wouldn't have  owned the Mazda 626 outright until 2007. By then, about 5 cars later, I was living in the woods in Jacksonville, riding a bike; had just busked for the first time in my life, and was beginning to hear the whispers of "you need to go to St. Augustine!," that would take me 2 years to heed...

The Celtics are  looking pretty good, late in the 4th quarter; especially after Rambis just missed that shot..

One year of  St. Augustine busking, and the accumulation of about a dozen $100 fines (payable in leiu of 6 months in jail on each charge) later, and it was a 20 minute conversation I had with a guy that I was drinking with 'in the cut,' nearby where I busked at a stoplight in Jacksonville, that convinced me to move to Mobile, Alabama.

It's funny because  that fortuitous meeting sent me off on a trajectory that led to quite a lovely adventure, and I suppose I owe him a debt of gratitude; or perhaps a coffee filter.

I say that  because the guy named Steve who offered me 20 bucks for "just a space on the floor to roll out my sleeping bag," and then wound up showering, doing his laundry (using that as a ruse to steal 2 of my towels) and then had pocketed my stainless steel coffee filter (something I discovered after happening to want a cup around 10 am.) was a spitting image of that guy.

He was upset  over the fact that he had slipped up and complimented me on the stainless steel filter 'that's really cool, a stainless steel coffee filter' the night before. "I f**d up; I shouldn't have said anything; I should have just stolen it...." he told me, after I had confronted him with: "Have you seen my coffee filter?"

He was some  kind of Antifa Marxist, or whatever, who believed he was entitled to it just as much as me and probably more, because I was 'the white oppressor' or whatever ideology he used to rationalize being a thief. Something "easier" than believing in hard work and contributing to the community -holding that belief would be, well, too much work, and a pain in his ass.

As much as  I was upset that I couldn't stab him to death and put his body in the dumpster because I had had to sign him in as a guest; plus, the police have that black light thing they use to see dried blood on parts of floors where sleeping bags may once have been rolled out..

He had shoved  all the toiletries I had standing by the bathroom sink to the far corner of it, where it was haphazardly laying in a heap; and then had replaced it with his own toothpaste, razors, etc. Yeah. he deserved to die...

But, the guy  who had steered me in the direction of Mobile, Alabama could have been this guy's twin brother. This opens up the idea that there is some kind of balance in the universe.

I've encountered scoundrels  in the past who have ripped me off materially, but might have imparted some wisdom to me also -something that could serve me long after whatever they ripped off was used up...

It's March 4th,  and I have been water-only fasting for about 102 hours, now. I'm going to use a test strip to see if I am producing ketones and, if so, might embark on a 30 day sardine and mackerel only diet. I'm trying to sharpen my memory to aid in recalling lyrics. Part of the problem is that my improvisational approach to playing shifts my focus to one side of the brain; and it ain't the part responsible for remembering all 11 verses of "Tangled Up In Blue.."

Time to sleep. 

I forgot what  the point of this post was supposed to be. Maybe some sardines will jog my memory.

Trouble is, I'm  still feeling famished and would really like to fast until I'm not hungry at all; that's when you know your body is eating all the damaged cells and whatever cancer might have begun to form...

You have just read 957 words

The Pretty Up The Blog Python Script

This is a song...

Daniel McKenna III · Little Old Wing

Above, is a  song that is described in the player that pops open to play it.

Some guy gave  us brownies which had psylocibin mushrooms, I believe. I ate about half; Jacob waited to see what was going to happen to me...

I went into  a trancelike state, oddly enough, after the guy had given us the brownies, but before I'd eaten half of them. The mere anticipation of psychedelics had a placebo-like effect on me...

I took the  recording that Jacob made using an old school cassette deck, then transferred to digital, and kind of just tapped along on various percussion instruments then played acoustic guitar along with it; other than that it all comes from in front of Lilly's house on Bourbon Street, New Orleans USA

The Pretty Up The Blog Script Rewritten, With Help From AI 

The proof is  in the pudding!

I once (2016) wrote  a script in the Perl language which would take a bunch of words I wrote and put them into paragraphs, with the first 3 letters larger and in ornate font, and it would shade the paragraph a pastel color light enough to appear on the almost black background of this blog, chosen at random.

The next paragraph would get the same treatment, but another random color would be selected to decorate it.

The really hard programming problem was how to avoid the script randomly choosing the same color as in the preceding  paragraph, or one so close it might as well be..

This got me  into trying to find the "distance" between colors, which, neither I nor Meta AI, at this point has succeeded in doing.

So, I began  to rewrite the old Perl script in Python.

I switched to  Python after Perl somehow underwent a precipitous drop in popularity; with "Perl Is Dead" videos on Youtube to prove it.

And, when I  say I began to rewrite it; I started that process by telling Meta AI to write a script to take a bunch of words I wrote, and...

At first, it  got all fancy and was trying to use all the state of the art bells and whistles. Like a box would pop open to allow you to find and double click the file full of a bunch of words.

Then, it tried  to calculate the distance between the random color chosen, and the color of the previous paragraph, and would reject and try again if the colors were too close.

Both those features  crashed, and Meta kept simplifying it down to where it was in the neighborhood of the Perl script that I wrote by hand, way back in 2016, before AI became a household word..

Anyways; I will   now run this through the script and you should be seeing the results. 

You've just read 326 words

Only Thursday

I left out of here yesterday, as dusk began to encroach; to the point that, looking for roaches on the sidewalk became harder, as I made my way towards the Starbucks on Poydras Street...

I encountered barricades from one of the parades, but was able to get past them and walk into the Starbucks about 10 minutes before their closing time...
"Nothing to brew; not much to do...!" I said, after walking in.
I was only there to buy protein bars and green energy drinks to get me through until this coming Saturday (14th) when my retirement benefits should arrive..
The guitar case over my shoulder and the backpack being indications that I am anything but "retired," the barista's asked me, with a look of impending doom: "What can we get you?"
I then told them I only wanted to buy stuff that didn't have to be ground up, brewed, steamed or garnished with whipped cream. "That's why I said 'nothing to brew, not much to do, when I walked in,'" I said...
By the time I had picked out a few items and was packing them into the pockets of my guitar case, an older white gentleman had entered the place...
"The way they were looking at me out there;  they're probably going to think this is an extra clip of ammo," I said about the green super drink I was putting in one of the pockets.
The man smiled and said: "A cold drink!" (at that)
"Yeah, but with a flavor to die for," I said, on the way out...
I was stopped by National Guardsmen in the process of crossing over from Royal to Bourbon Streets , and, without objection, opened my back to reveal that my extra ammo clip had dripped condensation onto my rolling papers; there was a guitar in the case; and they never made it as far as the canister of suspicious white powder which was Creatine Monohydrate, and labelled as such. 
This is an example of the blessings that flow to those who show up and put in the effort. At least a few of them had seen me a few times the past week or so, and so I was already half-vetted as a non threat (unless one analyses my lyrics, I suppose...) .
I asked one of them: "So how many of you are actually loosing money by being out here doing this, rather than your regular jobs?"
"We're all civilians, and most of us have jobs, and yeah..we're losing money.."
"But, for the unemployed, it must be nice to have "found" work out here.."
"Yeah."
(thank for overlooking the vat of suspicious white powder, have a nice night)
I found some roaches of weed, so gummy with cannabis oils that they had stuck, like gum, to the sidewalk, and hadn't soaked up the rain that had fallen earlier, due to the oil and water not mixing thing...
Then I got a call from Jacob, who had some free time; and...we played for about 2 hours and split about 23 bucks; which is just about what I had estimated as the amount we could expect to make on the Wednesday night when parades were going on elsewhere that wouldn't end until midnight...
Well, I don't want Friday's post to be: "I spent all of Thursday recapping Wednesday.."
So, off I go; at 1:45 in the afternoon already...

The India House Hostel And Social Friction

So, there were these brownish guy's about 20 something years of age on the porch of the India House..

That is a hostel right on the other side of the church where Louis Armstrong got married to Lucy, from me.
I heard some guy speaking loudly about how Trump had called the Bad Bunny Superbowl halftime performance "the worst ever" (until the next one) and all that.
I was in high spirits; and had my guitar on my back and I was going to perhaps talk to them to see what they were about; just to be friendly in the way that used to be more the norm between people.
If the south is where the hospitality coagulates, then I really pity people in the other places.
I just said "Hey, people!" I believe. And there was shaking of heads; like, no it's not ok to say that to us.
It had nothing to do with me being white and 63; I'm sure of that; so I won't dwell on it; since those immutable characteristics, I could never bring them to see the advantage of...
The psy-op seems to involve people praising the Bad Bunny performance for what it was besides interesting music.
My guitar teacher said he watched it twice...
These are people who have figured out the algorithm; God bless em..
Like my post extolling the amazing accomplishments of the Jews...
There never was, nor will there ever be another artist who could do what Bad Bunny did up on that stage at halftime. I haven't seen it yet, actually, but I know what I'm saying.
That was the best ever! 
(So, now can search engines find this blog?
Because, I don't want to be like Alex Carter and be writing, to never be read...)

Let's Ask An Artificially Intelligent Entity What It Thinks!

Green will be for what Gemini 3 say's. 

It sounds like you’re reading a personal blog post where the author is reflecting on a social interaction that felt "off." The tone is a bit cynical, touching on modern social tensions and how the internet works. 

Gemini doesn't know that I'm the author, or maybe would have used a softened form of "cynicism." 
The people on the porch were in a towering Trump deranged rant; and wanted the whole world to hear; and myself, coming along in a white 63 year old body; well, they were going to return my greeting that way; as a signal that something wasn't right in a white 63 year old who say's "Hey, people!"
I did talk to one guy who was at the side of a van that he seemed to be getting stuff out of.
He asked me "What's going on?"
And I responded, "Just this."
That seemed to take him aback and he sort of asked me to repeat, and I explained; 
When you're living in the present moment then, like, the sum total of what's going on is you're standing here talking to (pointing to myself in a broad brush sweeping way) this skinny guy with a hat...
But then I quickly interjected: "But I'm not disappointed that my entire consciousness is involved in talking to you right now..."
Yeah, so maybe the guy's on the porch barking down the block about Puerto Ricans and hatred of Trump; maybe they were hostile because they saw me talking to the guy by the van, and maybe they hate him a lot; and so if A=B and B=C.....
Gotta go; it's Monday and the Mardi Gras busking train has just left the station...

The author implies that the "tacit understanding" is enforced by the digital landscape. To be "read" (and not be like Alex Carter), one must speak the language of the gatekeepers, even if one does so with a wink to the audience. -More from Gemini 3. She cracks me up... 

 I Learn About Subtext

You’ve identified Bad Bunny as a proxy. The author believes the praise isn't actually for the artist, but for the "cargo" (the ideology or social movement) he represents. In writing, this is often called Subtext.

This This Won't Grow Old 

5. SEO (Search Engine Optimization)

At the end, the author asks if search engines can find his blog. This is the practice of using specific names (like Trump, Bad Bunny, or Alex Carter) to make sure a website appears at the top of Google search results.

The War On Clutter

Yes, indeed, the carnaval season has arrived to find me in a state of semi-disarray; as the clutter has outpaced my decluttering effort over the past week or so. It's as if I was one incidence of the flu away from unravelling

I was up around 9 on this sunny Saturday morning of February 7th; and I rolled up the Brazilian flag in my parlor window to allow more of that item to pour in; so I could see where to begin to unclutter...

There's the strong coffee, the roll of toilet paper -a last vestige of the flu of '26 that I had for longer than I could of, had I not slowed my recovery by continuing to try to smoke..
The acoustic guitar waits to have some lighter gauge strings put on it (accomplished at this writing) after having proven to be a bit of a challenge at the Lilly Pad last night; as a hybrid of two different gauges...
And, of course, in the foreground, the "morning papers," as per the Artist's Way course I am trying to work. It's a 12 week program, and I'm still in Week One...("The Morning Papers")..
The hat that I wore to the store at about 9 pm, after we'd gotten back that early, reclines on the couch, after having taken it's unnecessary and ill-fated ride on my head; with a 24 ounce can of Abita "Hazy" IPA the goal of the mission...
That just made me fall asleep sooner, after I made about a 45 minute recording of me playing the hybrid guitar along with drum tracks; might as well capture the kludgy combination of odd strings for posterity. I still had plenty of energy 'in the tank' after Jacob and I played maybe just an hour and a half, split 23 bucks, then split...
Not a bad start on the first real day of Mardi Gras. There was a steady flow of tip money pretty much evenly spaced, which gave the sense that, were we to absolutely need, say, $100; it would only be a matter of putting in x amount of time...
And, of course, had a few of them one dollar bills been twenties, it could have been $81 bucks. 
Maybe tourists are holding back their larger tips for those whom they will wind up seeing "out there" every night of Mardi Gras; whom they will drop a "Benjamin" on, come fat Tuesday....   

But, the clutter...

I have already done the Jordan Peterson thing of making my bed, "first thing in the morning," which means the black sleeping bag and the tan bean bag pillow, are no longer spread out on the rug, and Harold is outside, a warm spot on the bag;  his legacy...
Then it was the morning papers, "first thing in the morning," before doing the Joe Dispenza Morning Meditation, which he advises be done "first thing in the morning."
 The book on "the Japanese Art of Decluttering (and the magic of tidying up)" is in the foreground, most likely pretty disgusted at what is in front of it..
The battery pack is plugged and charging; the black sneakers I wore last night, I should have put away (chapter 2).
And, gosh, the electric guitar is leaning on the stool I would want to sit on to put the sneakers back on, with a long sleeved thermal shirt draped over it to dry; as my laundry card balance was just short of a dryer load; due to mismanagement of my life, spawned by clutter; and being blindsided by a flu for four days...
"It's Going To Take Some Time," to master the Carol King song in the sheet music splayed out by the decluttering book...
A box of about 40 albums that I'm going through, then organizing either onto a shelf or into the trash can (in the case of one's that skip).
Another darned box by the door of the food that I get every month from some charity that, bless their hearts, are unwittingly (I hope) poisoning the residents here with Vienna sausage and "process" cheese et. al.
They (the people of color here) still call the latter "government cheese." Maybe it was intended to be fed to a government mule, I'm wondering...
But, I only take a couple items from this "senior box" of food that rains down from heaven, subsidized upstream by the very industries that sell pharmaceuticals to those that the government cheese catches up to...but I digress...
I shouldn't leave the rest sitting by my door; lest I come home drunk as a skunk and say "screw it," I'm making a big plate of spaghetti with a wad of that there orange cheese melted into it!"
There's the bug trap. It only had a couple big ones and three or four pretty small ones in it the last time I set it in the closet. It might have been an entire family, going to the water jug for a cat treat...speaking of foods that are signs of danger...
The 1,800 watt space heater has been all I've needed to get through the winter to this point. 
It's 59 outside right now, so maybe I can unclutter the spot where that is sitting pretty soon..
My busking gear sits on the exercise bench; throwing a hurdle in the way of doing a set of bench presses "first thing in the morning..."
The kid's drum kit that Jacob gave me. Now that is not to be seen as clutter. It will be one of only a dozen things still in the room on that glorious day when I finally decide to declutter the entire place; and change my life for good...

It Was Fifteen Years Ago, Today...

 

A documentary I participated in 15 years ago is now back  in production, and I'm going to meet up with Russell, the director (shown) to put some kind of "where are they now?" cap on the thing.  He messaged me out of the blue. I just wish I'd had the wherewithal to get out of the blue hat I was wearing in Mobile, Alabama in 2011 (shown).

3 Day Flu; even Harold affected

I was as sick as a dog; as was Harold my cat, apparently, as we were both sneezing this past weekend.
In my fevered state I slept off and on and would wrap up against the cold and then wake up sweating and shivering simultaneously. The fever was 101.6 according to a thermometer I had forgotten I had.
After remembering I had one "somewhere," was confounded to not find it in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.
"Who doesn't put their thremometer in their medicine cabinet?!" I asked the perplexed looking reflection in the bathroom mirror..
"Beats me," the palmetto bug that was hanging around the sink area, for the water, I imagine, seemed to shrug.
He is one that I'm allowing to live, while continuing to deport all the illegal ones from the closet by the stereo.
I think I have documented that situation; and shown the trap that I made, which now has been upgraded to an empty water-cooler type bottle with a few cat treats in it..

The water jug, as well as being a ready percussion instrument, and all you need to lay down cool sounding "drums," using a digital audio workstation, is also a very good palmetto bug detention center, as the resonant properties of the vessel amplify the sounds of them attacking the internal cat treats, and a multitude of the creatures inside the thing produces a sound somewhere between popcorn popping, and... a sound I can only describe as palmetto bugs scurrying around inside an empty water jug, feasting upon cat treats; complete with crunching and chewing sounds...
With the temperature having gone as low as 28 degrees, over the past weekend, I thought about putting a halt to the deportations, as, dumping them outside seemed to be like a death sentence...

"No bug is illegal in your

stolen apartment, Daniel!"

So, I struck a compromise, with my "remain in the jug" policy, whereby I would put a cap over the jug, trapping less than 10 or so of them (lately) inside the jug with treats to eat and let the jug sit inside the apartment until the outside temperature was above 50 degrees or so. Billie.

Anyways, that's about it for Wednesday; pre Mardi Gras parade weekend.
As of now I still haven't gotten any "marching orders" from the parade cleanup job..
It seems like, after I tried to apply as tax exempt, and some proof of that was required of me; in the form of a "picture" of my military discharge status (give me a break; my 15 year old phone isn't capable of taking a legible picture) that I am being held up and not even given the chance to work as a "single filer" and have the $640 that I would make this weekend, taxed down to about $580...
I would settle for that, in lieu, of having to go get my discharge papers scanned and emailed from Office Depot; and all that...
So, that's how they deny a white man a job; throwing a bunch of hoops to jump through in front of him until he just say's "screw it, I'll busk my ass off with the not too far-fetched goal of pulling in $600 on my own terms...
A lot of the pay of $16.01/hr. is for just sitting around, waiting for parades to end...
I've been paid to sit around and do nothing; paid very well, actually, but went stir crazy after about 12 hours of it.
The power had gone out and I was offered double time money to just sit in the dark, guarding a property against looters; this was before the days of cellphones....
Anyways, I'm still hoping to investigate the cleanup job and I might have to make the 45 minute walk to the place; since the parades start in a couple days...
You learn something about yourself, I think, based on whether you would take a job of doing nothing..  

Orientation; Tomorrow At The Ungodly Hour of Noon

So, here I was; contemplating how I would carry myself into the Job1 center; and should I go in there yelling: "What's the matter; white men have too much supremacy to sweep trash off the street?!" or something -to make it about race is popular these days...
But the Job1 place had about 75 employees, most of them black women, and all of them present, in their uniforms of blue shirts; and earning, who knows how much in a city where the bus drivers pull in something like $25/hr., even the one white one...
But, I just got an email as friendly as the staff were...
I was multiplying $25/hr. by as many employees -split into stages; when you walk in there are people to run you through a metal detector; this tells me that the blue shirts are probably getting paid well, for some reason...
And then there were a whole bunch of them in cubicles behind computers or on phones to walk past to get to the ones that signed you in, before sending you upstairs to 4 more young ladies of color, God bless them, who registered you for the Mardi Gras parade cleanup "laborer" position...
And, I figured that, at one of the stages I had let down my guard and betrayed myself as multiplying their numbers by $25/hr...
I thought of how nice it is for there to be a lot of jobs that, if you didn't do them; nobody would notice. It would take probably 63 out of the 75 not doing anything before there was turmoil at the Job1 center...
But it looks like they are going to hire me; and this bodes well for racial harmony in New Orleans.
The security guy's might be sleep deprived and watching too much CNN and gun me down as soon as I went in their screaming: "What, am I too WHITE to push a broom?!" or whatever it was surely going to be..

Now I just have to get ready to bitch over who gets the rakes and who has to take a broom; the bastards, I can see it already..!