John Furie Zacharias
having a bad day in a strange place
Thunderstorms Anywhere

Thunderstorms in the Imajica

 The different ways I don't like you 
 in a list that may never become organized
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JfZ making a mess of the web
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Thursday, May 19, 2005
It's the little things

Anal retentive dumb fuck obsessive compulsive bi polar perfectionist artistically challenged slacker
See that little red line above?  It's only 127 bytes.  It forces a table cell formatting of 600 pixels in all of my past 350+ blog entries.  Using it gives me a consistent pallette onto which I can regularly spread my linguistic bullshit and opinion about every topic under the sun.  Without that little red line, unreadable chaos.  You could fit 11,338 of my HRs on a floppy disk, almost as many as the U.S. military has had injured in Iraq, and then go skipping off to Walmart to buy an ice cream cone.

Not having my little red line among other expectations of subscripton, something so simple and true, drove me nuts.  No, that's not right.  It drove me fucking nuts.  For over a year, I heard bitching and whining that my blog was slow to load.  So, let's put all the elements on the same server and save me the grief of sprinkling the server demands for elements across the continent.  Yeah.  Good plan.

Nothing is as easy as you want it to be.  Magically, I could not upload files to blogdrive.  Helpee even monitored the situation and watched as I would upload a file, but then magically parse all the file manager options, and then delete the file.  Talk about a ghost in the machine. Gremlins. I installed anti-spyware, anti-virus, and firewall software. I still couldn't upload files to BD.

This happened about the same time that it seemed to be a good idea to dumb down my Thunderstorms entries for what came to be known as Dark Skies.  It seemed like a reasonable thing to do.  I am always totally flattered that anyone would put a link to my blog on their own blog or site, let alone get tossed onto the main page at Blogdrive.  So, I tried to reformat my bloggish lunacy into a low rezalicious treat on Dark Skies.

That's not the problem.  The problem was spending hours fighting the GUI at BD because I have a satellite ISP.  I finally lost it.  When normally it takes me twenty minutes to update any blog, but I have to dance around and hope to get lucky that my file will be uploaded for over an hour, and it's pissing me off, because that was the whole point of paying for a blogdrive subscription, I'm not going to be a cheerful guy.  No, not at all.
Trying to be witty enough to keep you and me entertained isn't that fuckng hard.  But, if I can't get to your house to visit you, there is no interaction.  If I don't pay my electric bill, the PC won't be that magical box of mirth, it'll just be a plastic boat anchor.  It's a confluence of little details that makes life good.

And I think I just found a way around the problem I was having with the BD file upload GUI.  It's the little things.  Simple little things.  A work-around.  Get it done.  That's my motto, now.  Even if I have to be grouchy.  Then, again, I never-ever promoted myself as a likeable guy.  No. Quite the opposite.

So, after an intense week of insomnia because the fucking cat was in heat and would not stop yowling every hour on the hour, it magically did a Jekyll and Hyde this morning and stopped.  Skiddy turned into the quiet, playful and lovable little bag of fur that I know and love.

Same deal with Blogdrive.  At least now, I can get back to the honest business of fervently hating all of you equally.

[Headphones] :: Evil Stevie: Activate! - JfZ

[Nothing to see here] More beta testing.

Saturday, May 14, 2005
Slow Motion Ninja II

I was checking out the DoD Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC) information yesterday and saw some Army bases I recognized more than others.  You can check out this PDF for a state-by-state listing of the DoD facilities affected by this round of BRAC.  Some small towns are negatively affected when a major employer like DoD bails, same as when a one-factory town would feel a spiralling business crunch.  Generally speaking, I'm all for it.  If any government agency knows how to waste money through redundancy, let alone fraud and abuse, it's the Department of Defense.  I welcome Rumsfeld's team tweaking the military and transitioning the force structure from Cold War needs to expectations of its mission in the next decades.  I embrace the concept.  The headline about saving nearly $50 billion over the next 20 years is a bit hard to swallow, though.

Think about it. That's $2.5 billion a year.  If the U.S. continues to be convinced that the War on Terror is so important over the next 20 years -- since the current administration did leak out it would take a generation of people to "win" the GWoT -- we're likely to eat up the expected BRAC savings by growing funding needs in the Veterans Administration for proper healthcare and benefits in that program.

I fully support any funding the VA can obtain.  I'm a bit bitter that Bush's neocon team put such a burden on the agency that shortly after the start of Operation Iraqi Freedom, the VA would not accept any applications from other veterans.  That's the little black hole into which I fell.

I can fully understand the logic behind the VA's rule making.  While it may not have been jacked off on FOX news daily like stories of victorious biblical Bushisms, the non-reported story is that the VA was totally unprepared for the healthcare needs of injured service members, or perhaps the sheer quantity of the 12,000-plus honorable men and women needing care, since the start of Bush's Bag of Tricks.

So, when I quit my job to assist my mother in FL -- in order to make her last days on the planet more peaceful than a nursing home -- and then fell ill -- I had no insurance.  I had served nearly a decade in the Army, active and reserve, but was denied any access to VA healthcare because of Bush's Iraq.

Especially so, when I got double-tapped with an illness, then an injury.  Only months after I recovered from the death-defying illness, I shattered my leg.  Weeks in between, my mom died.  See the original Slow Motion Ninja for background on that.  The hospital staff had me apply for social security benefits.  The SSA decided that my injury was just temporary, so no help there -- even though I have yet to speak or see anyone from that agency.

And now my 'temporary' injury has now been nearly 18 months old, temporary.  Imagine scrambling for income and survival, while laying horizontally in bed for months because the orthopedic surgeon advises you to not even sit vertically, upright at the PC.  What would you do for money that first month, or the secoind, or the eighteenth?

Imagine using the aluminum walker, the shower chair, and the electric scooter chair -- that you originally bought for the use of your deceased mother, but somehow you've been using lately -- for the last year.  That's just ironic grief fun -- because had I been healthy, I would have sold or given away those items that reminded me of my mom's troubled last year, but NO (Steve Martin voice).  I got to use those things.  No, I had to use those same things.  And to explain some TAG comments from people who know me: It was a bit traumatic when my mom died, because I never knew my dad. Ever.

So here I am in survival mode.  I happen to walk to the grocery store again tonight, prompting me to share a part II of Slow Motion Ninja.  I actually weighed my backpack (bookbag-sized) tonight.  It was only 25 pounds, but it felt heavier.

I only remember seeing my orthopedic surgeon twice.  Both times, I blogged it.  The day after emergency surgery and at his office on the only follow-up visit I ever had.  Then, it was just 18 months of stress and it still is that way, today.

So, this last week I took a week off.  A vacation from blogging, even though as many of you know, blogging can be a helpful venting of stress.  I went on another walk-about to the grocery store tonight.  Fine.  But, how many people would spend two hours walking to the store -- let alone, if they were injured?  Well, as you know already, I'm a phreek.  So, I did.  And not only do I just walk to the store, but I always push myself based upon their closing time.

Tonight, I arrived at the Winn Dixie, sweating profusely, with my backpack and cane about 10 minutes before their closing time.  I had pushed it.  I found a Zen way to distract myself from pain and discomfort, from burning sweat in my eyes, and from the click-click-click in my knee.

When pushing the limits of one's physical or mental self -- some people pray, some people chant to Bhudda, and some people crank up their Ipod.  Having neither Ipod or God on this journey, I decided to distract myself from the physical by doing something totally mind-consuming, as I click-stepped and limp-walked in my own silence of the night down the street.

It takes almost two hours to walk up to the corner and back.  That's about as long as many of you spend in church and likely longer than you actually spend praying or focussing on your God.  I'm just saying.  I was walking faster than my stupid lameness allows, sweating from the gills, and mentally, I was concentrating.  I decided to calculate the cubes of numbers, one through twenty.

While that may not sound as Zen as Buddha in black spandex, or as spiritually holy as Christ on an Eggo Waffle, I just prompt you to try it before you dismiss me out of hand.  After a while, I felt no pain.  Was that a miracle from the ghost of John Paul II, or John Lennon, or maybe even the good lord George Bush himself? 

Let me be specific.  I'm walking with my handy-fucky-dandy aluminum cane to the store about 3 miles away, round trip.  1x1x1=1  2x2x2=8.  3x3x3=27.  Cubes, dude.  I have immense pain, every step.  Distraction.  10x10x10 = 1000.  11-cubed ... step, step, step is 1331.  12, 13, 14 15 ... What was 12-cubed again?  Think.  Remember.

Apparently, my brain goes to 20 cubed on this trip.  But, it was fun to figure out numbers like 17-cubed, in my head: times-times, add-add, carry-carry.  Walk, click, step, pain.  17x17 is what?  Walk, limp.  Click-click, step.  289 times 17 equals what?  Multiply, seperate.  Remember.  Add.  Carry.  Walk.  Step. Click.  2890.  Remember that.  Step.  Pain.  Click.  What is 7 x 289?  Step.  Click.  Fuck!  My zoink-brain says 2100 - 77.  2023.  Step.  Click.  Pain.  Add.  4913.

What was that first number?  I got up to 20 cubed, then I memorized the answers because I was forgetting them an hour later on the way home, after I had to remember 12 numbers for the calculation of some other cube.  I checked my answers though.

My leg and knee surely sucks, but the brain still seems to work.  I got 1-20 cubed right.  I checked it on the PC calculator when I got back.  It's such a relief to realize that mathematic skill matters on my resume.  Oh, crap.  I forgot.  In the new Bushworld economy, I'd be better off being able to guess someone's weight at a carnival.

Here's a fun idea: I could travel to Mexico and give up my U.S. citizenzhip.  Then, cross back over the border illegally.  Maybe then, I could get some some health care and various other government benefits.  Mental note: refresh spanish language skills.

21-cubed?  I'm saving that one for another day and a fast-moving brass-n-lead Gonzo brain tickler.  I'm trying to stay positive here, right?  Okay, fine.  Click on the turtle. Check out the art of Darren Calvert.  He added some new stuff.  It's good.

[Headphones] :: Bush and Brando Debate - JfZ

Sunday, May 08, 2005
Happy Mother's Day

Secret Squirrel

Since many people went out and bought their Mommy a gift for Mother's Day, let's read this product advertisement.  Apparently, Mom can enjoy an instant massage -- and it's cordless!  No longer will Mom accidently unplug her massager trying to reach that special knot of tension just when she was about to be finished massaging herself.

Also, it fits in her pocket or purse.  So, that's handy.  I have a sneaking suspicion that some people might have read that purse-fitting feature in a lewd and lascivious way.  Further, if you thought about anything just now except sore neck muscles when reading "penetrating comfort," you're just a naughty person.

It makes strained, sore muscles feel new.  Well, that's just magical.  I thought Kegel exercises did that.  And I'm amazed, that five minutes does the job.  If that was the case, I wouldn't buy this gift for my female friend, now would I?  I'm a bit perplexed why the Men's model costs a dollar more, but I'm compelled to "give it to her."

[Headphones] :: Jessica: Pleasure Club Mix - JfZ

Friday, May 06, 2005
Welcome to the Dark Ages

Click for more pix

One of the four stated Common Sense Principles for Positive Security at Veterans for Common Sense is Energy Independence:
VCS advocates a U.S. energy policy that relies on American innovation to ensure greater independence from foreign sources of energy. This is best accomplished through increased use of renewable, environmentally sound energy sources, and energy conservation efforts.
As a veteran, I became a member of VCS because of their principles.  They understand that the new world in which we are trying to live has a energy-based cause to our potential future conflicts.  The next 50 years -- or to put it another way: the next two generations of people -- will live in world vastly different from the one enjoyed by their parents and grand parents.

If you are reading this blog entry from a library computer in what the first world calls a third world country, your heirs may not experience a huge shift in standard of living, or everyday society.  On the other hand, if you are in the so-called industrialized nations and part of the G-8 economies, you can either fight the changes in daily life that are inevitable, or start thinking about solutions to the problem.

Here are some basic things to ponder.  Why would U.S. president Bush go on a Social Security Lollapalooza Tour of the country, when political pundits called Social Security the deadly third rail of politics?  The third rail in a subway is the electrified one that kills you, should you touch it.  Is it because Bush is such a brave man?  No.  It is a total distraction.

Warren Buffet is the multi-billionaire owner of Berkshire Hathaway.  In some circles, he is considered as a living guru of making money.  He has sold his shares in many stocks to build up a forty billion dollar cash reserve.  He is investing in the foreign currency markets because Bush has sold the national treasures by running his outdated oil baron economy.
"A country that is now aspiring to an 'Ownership Society' will not find happiness in - and I'll use hyperbole here for emphasis - a 'Sharecropper's Society.' But that's precisely where our trade policies, supported by Republicans and Democrats alike, are taking us."
Some years down the road, the current Social Security system would cause the U.S. government to pay out money it does not have.  This is called deficit spending.  Unfortunately, the Bush administration has squandered the federal budget surplus into deficit spending already, with his happy-happy, love-you-longtime, Bush tax cuts -- or the promised $300 per person Bush bucks -- which I think went directly into your gas tank, didn't it?

In addition, our U.S. trade deficit is growing exponentially every year now, too.  The future Social Security deficit is a fraction of the current deficits Bush has been inflating with his economic policies since he took office five years ago.  Bush is hanging onto the status quo oil-based economy at the cost of many lives.

[Headphones] :: Who's the Nigga? (lo-fi stream) - RX

Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Evil Thumbnails v1.05

Click for more Evil Thumbnails
Welcome to my Evil Thumbnails page.

Millions of people store billions of images on the internet.  You can never tell what the image really is from its filename.

I thought I'd take it a step further. I'll even let you see a part of the image.

See if you can guess what the image really is.

Click on the Evil Thumbnail to view the entire image.

Caution: Clicking these thumbnails will expose you to (gasp!) retro nudity.
021 Apparently, all the Hep Cats at the nudist colony poolside attracted the ladies by prominently displaying their tool box.
022 Beach parties are so Gidget, but a little BBQ on the beach looks fun.  "Hey anyone got a lighter in their pocket?  Oh, crap.  Nevermind.  Check the tool box."
023 Everyone loves a paddle boat on the beach.  I think she is too distracted to notice why she isn't escaping the attention of this guy.
024 Him: Hey, I just farted.  Did you hear it?

Her: No, but I think I actually saw you do it, just now.
025 Listen up, pal.  If you want to join the Cult of the White Hats, you better wear it correctly so you'll know when the comet arrives.

[Headphones] :: Jessica: Sanibel Island - JfZ

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