The Ignorant and Mislead

It is only in my local life that I have any feelings of certainty about what is going on.  Still the world is filtering through.  A sort of caught in the Zoo feeling overtakes me now.  What I've got, prostate and what they want are so far disconnected from any reality of what I've got I am being further ground down.  If I was young again I'd be smart to go into crime as a first career. The strippers and whores may well have the right idea.  Course they often seem to be dual personalities as to make you wonder what hope of sanity there really is at all for anyone.  I feel good that as one of my first official acts, buy I declared April Fools Day, no rx the Transcendian Holiday.  Face it and embrace it that you are, have been, or will be if you are lucky, foolish.

Got involved in a discussion about existentialism which I felt hip to read when I was in High School, and was caused to remember things I liked about it, and things I didn't. The Transcendian Philosophy is still forming, though partly well codified enough to inspire progress in the right direction.  A direction right enough is all I am about, or expect as limited Utopia.  Look here at this little airport!

They liked me in Tel Aviv!  This is true.  It was at the height of  the Transcendian Message Rocket program that I got more international press.  Course actually it has been long that Transcendia has had consistent presence same as any small weak poor country that rents.  I study political science from both psychological and sociological basis ascribed to experiments done both ethically and unethically as what History is.  Somewhere out of the Strand is my copy of the Timelines of History wherein I wrote down when I was invented.  I hardly know arithmetic having to take long to ever get fractions to center.  I built a table yesterday that perfectly illustrates how I do things and end up always off center.  It has a lot to do with the materials I have to work with.

– They are imperfect.

Most of my best work is a bitch to frame.  This table I made yesterday was made from finally a curved cut piece of 3/4 inch birch plywood.  I'd started out wanting to make a little rectangular table to throw together with screws and little sawing, but the top I had in mind was warped.  For the leg cutting I had to mess with the straight fence on my cheap Delta chop saw and hurt my hand a couple of curse word worthy times trying to do precision mechanics with the wrong tools.  Course next time I'll make everything act right.  All the wood I used came out of the cabinet shop dumpster.  Sometimes too often the dumpster smells like Toulene, chemicals, not good for your kidneys.

The table I made yesterday would be fairly easy to break.  It might be a work of art.  To make anything work, you have to believe in it.  While I am a bit of a sceptic, I'm glad I went to church as often as I did.  A good sermon is a fun thing.  I can't well call my religion a separate theology but can call it a spiritual practice.  Working backwards I need to divorce it from dependence on books, and give it an oral tradition.  I volunteer myself to be interviewed…

What questions do I have for myself you might want to ask me?

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