So I made this joke (which you should NOT READ if you dislike SPOILERS of any kind and are really good at codebreaking. And haven't read the 6th Harry Potter book. And intend to. And somehow managed to get this far without the ending getting spoiled anyway by the various internet trolls who take sick pleasure in the dismay of strangers): and yea, it did please me as excessively nerdy and pleasantly obscure.

Bang those cymbals, monkeys

The three thousand gods and the thousands religions that serve them, the neoconservatives, the deep ecologists, the panarmaggedonists, the pole shift watchers, the alien presence seekers, the the illuminati hunters, the kung fu masters, the cthonic interpreters, the anubian appraisers, oh Lord, the eight thousand lights lining the path of illusion.

bah. go try and give something away, someone comes along and thinks they should keep it for themselves. so the password is changed again. I expected creative trashing, at least. I guess it will just have to rot.

Step 2:

Step 3: Exterminate All Rational Thought

It always comes as a surprise that anyone reads any of this... and more of a surprise when it elicits response. And that makes me feel like I should say something more on the subject, and then things get complicated. It's easy enough to complain... so much easier than coming up with anything truly constructive. Which was my point in the first place, and I don't feel any closer to a solution.

You know, almost every time I go off on one of my tirades about our critically imbalanced, for-hire "democratic" system of government in the USA I get modded way up (most recent example - http://slashdot.org/comments.pl?sid=60787&cid=5730858) indicating that a lot of people feel the same way. But so what? I mean, how many people would even bother to go to the laughable work of pasting the above link in to check the actual comment this journal refers to? We are the society of the ultra

Is a third side possible? What I'm struck by more and more often is that the general tone, theme, apparent goal of advocacy, whatever its political or ideological flavor, seems to be all the same. Bombast, rhetoric apparently chosen for flair rather than veracity, relating to the opposing viewpoint only through making a charicature or straw man of it, through ridicule or attack.

Chorus: Why do you cry out thus, unless at some vision of horror?

Cassandra: The house reeks of death and dripping blood.

Chorus: How so? 'Tis but the odor of the altar sacrifice.

Cassandra: The stench is like a breath from the tomb.

Aeschylus

What now. Whatever it might be it seems it comes without reward or at least the kind of reward I want now. And what's later? Later doesn't exist so if it isn't now then it isn't and so it seems reasonable to ask, what's in it for me? In an immediate, gratification sense. And how is it that all the live in the moment stuff I get stuffed down my throat takes a holiday in this wretched world of self improvement. And yet here I am. So many have said so and yet here I am. Killing. Seven. M

Yeah, kiddies, campers, neighbors, Romans, bugs, allay'all, I believe then that sums it up. I believe that there is little else to say. Yes, dear me yes, I believe that we can just leave it at that.

Cheerio, then.

I know I've got a penchant for the time to just lay it down, for once and for all - we're fucked. People are usually idiots in the individual case and reliably idiots in the collective. Our brains evolved but not fast enough. We're not capable of reliable, collective cognition on the social and historical scale.

This information dissemination thing is being a case study in the general failure of communication. Well, I should get right down to it and say my general failure of communication. I haven't exactly been tearing the world apart, I just tried to write a provocative project description and point several dozen people and likely sites at it. The silence has been deafening.

So, today (and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow) is all about promoting the M.A.P.S. project. I'm waiting for the pile of scorn but I'm a lot more concerned about the pile of silence from everybody ignoring me... but that's the internet.

So, what is a M.A.P.S. project? well, the site definition (http://www.kingdomcomeinstitute.com/) is "a conceptual exploration of alternative models for the distribution of music and methods for promoting the realization of these models."

Ever quit something, and be happy with that, and then start again, and be happy with that, and then quit again, and start to wonder what the hell it is you really want? Form. Text seems to be evolving like some kind of microbe in this day and age, and here I am, adding to the confusion with whatever nonsense bubbles out of the top of my head. But some kind of statement, even one that may never be read by anyone (except perhaps the Big Computer, by and by) seemed germane. And that is all