journal 11/27/04

I am in a terrible mood. My legs hurt and I don't know why. My feet
orthotics are getting old and I haven't had the leisure or the money to
get new ones. These were designed five fucking years ago by Dr.
Leonard. To those of you who don't know, orthotics are used to correct
the gait. Without them, my joint pain is terrible. I have an infection
in my goddamn ear lobe and probably deeper and the doctors won't help
and can't see the problem or even discern that there's an actual
infection in the ear lobe, which I know there is because it leaks puss,
which comes from, an infection! That's right. So much for these stupid
medical doctors who presume to be able to categorize the human body
like a goddamn machine but can't even perform basic tasks correctly.
And I don't have much more faith in our scientists, either, or at least
a lot of them. It's all the same modern game. Pretend like you know
everything, pretend like everything's just fucking dandy, as long as
you keep the power, and by the time everything falls to shit we're all
dead. My gums are bleeding because I can't get proper dental care. I
remember my last dental cleaning when the lady told me, "You have such
beautiful teeeth; you should just take better care of them." Well, I
brush often enough and I always buy the extra-strength mouth wash
before alcohol or drugs. But it's hard to take care of your teeth when
you live in an economy that thinks you're livestock. And yet I can't
compete in the free-market system because the cops have harassed me for
the past two years on completely illegal and logical grounds. I hit a
girl who hit me first. Now, the constitution guarantees me a speedy
trial. That would have meant three months, at most, after the incident.
Instead, they held up my civil, legal, etc. rights for eight months and
I finally settled with them. They gave me an incompetent and
under-funded attorney. And that was almost a year ago. Now they're off
on some related trip that's way more illegal and nonsensical. They just
play with my life like reckless little boys that always break their
toys. And for them, it has no consequences. Throughout the legal
process, I have behaved civilly, morally and logically. Now, at school,
I have to deal with professors, none of whom are as intelligent as I
am. They may have more training and professionalism but real
intelligence is how well you can think for yourself. I can think for
myself quite well. Now, I don't know how much philosophical credit I
can take for that. A lot of that just had to do with the fact that I
had a tough childhood and had to solve a lot of problems for myself.
Assuming you survive tough situations, they make you smarter. But in
terms of economic value, I should be paid for my intelligence. Instead,
I have to kow-tow to these ignorant professors who walk the politically
correct academic line. Now I hate anyone who walks a party line. That's
just the trouble with our society; there isn't enough independent
thought. Now we call modern capitalism a place of free individualism.
But individualims, in its positive sense, doesn't mean your right to be
in public half naked or wear alligator-skin skate shoes. It means the
ability to be an independent being who can reason and make decisions
for one's self. We don't have many of such beings in our society
because our school system crushes them. Do you know what assignments
are like in K-12. They're this. Memorize this, learn this term that we
invented, agree with what we tell you, read what we tell you; you have
no choice. And then there's class discussion and that really means, Oh,
let's talk freely unless you disagree with us. Hey, why don't you
independently parrot what I just told you! Let's play Academia! And
then they give conformist students As and scholarships and send them
off to good colleges. Well, I've always said, "You can't be too smart
if you have a 4.0." And I can't say that a high school diploma is
anything more than a certificate that says that you've been through the
brain washers. Now, what else about my life? This girl came over today.
Now, she contacts me out of the blue and wants to hang out. This is a
girl I dated a while ago, the best looking girl I've ever slept with.
So she comes over and wants to hang out as friends. She's telling me
all about this boyfriend of hers, who sounds like a fairly conventional
guy. Now, I had planned my fucking day around her. I had brushed off
class, not called my lawyer and essentially had been all excited. If
she wanted to hang out as friends, she could have fucking said so and
have come around at my fucking leisure. I don't need friends; I need a
girlfriend. But a girlfriend is a reward you get for being an effective
piece of livestock in this factory farm economy. You go to work; you do
double speak. You twist your brain, your body and your soul around to
push money out your teats into the waiting tubes and then you get your
reward, a little free time with a member of the opposite sex in a
mediocre suburban home. And if you're like the average American, that's
just fine because you're as dumb as livestock anyway. Now, something
that I think about quite a bit is why adjustments weren't made for me
when I was a kid. My parents were stubborn as heck. They saw that I was
different but they didn't adjust and make the extra effort to help me
fit in. An ideal effort would have been taking me to psychologists,
etc.. My mom let me be bullied by my ape of an older brother and
whatever other scum she had hanging around; I remember two ornery
little neanderthal girls who were supposed to be my "sister's" for a
while even though they had no blood connection. And my dad, who shares
half my blood, sold his soul to my stepmom. I was never a priority.
They picked me up as late as they could from daycare. I was always the
last one even though they were the most prosperous family. They dressed
me like a pauper when I was a kid. They just threw whatever rags were
handy on me, bought me the cheapest glasses and didn't really care that
much how I would do in school. Now, it confuses me because in some ways
it seems like they cared. My dad would be friendly quite often. And my
Mom would save my drawings. But, no, it's all nonsense. They undermined
my self-esteem. They wouldn't let me think I was okay, good and
capable. I don't know why. When I had friends over, it was always my
friends who were important. Discussion always centered around everybody
else. My Dad, who is of my blood, always helped the community, the
nation and his own financial status. He always had so much
high-falluting moral nonsense but he gave his own son a snake when he
asked for an apple.