The point of blogging for me.


All that food going through countless acrobatics, tumbling down all the turns and twists of your intestines, only to end up as crap flushed down as expediently as possible can really feel, sometimes, as what life has become in this quaint impersonal world.

There’s only so much crap your brain can take. Never mind the immortal and universal crap you’ll get every day from those who have power over you, and from the oddball nuts you’ll stumble upon here and there. The real crap, the oh so insidiously dangerous crap is the flood of irreconcilable data your brain goes through every day thanks to that neurological weasel I call the internet and its demented predecessors.

Yeah, you’re right. This guy is nuts. I agree. I’ve got some issues, pal. But hey, I promise this will be worth your while at my expense. You’ll enjoy this and laugh a little. Just give this boomer a minute or two to exercise his dumb fingers into their magic.

A hundred years ago your world view and that of your peers was pretty much static throughout your life. In the evenings you’d talk with your friends, family, neighbours and you’d be doing that in person with the full spectrum of human sensations.

Then a few decades later the radio and then the TV came along the telephone and suddenly holy molly you had all kinds of news from everywhere coming in all the time. But really, only on the telly, or the radio, or newspaper were there and they were fairly all playing from the same kind of stacked deck. So, again, everyone was still in tune but more exciting it had become thanks to an endless supply of news to talk about, face to face.

Then overtime, in the 50’s and 60’s things started to get more and more busy thanks to economic success and the transistor slowly made its way as the answer to this growing flood of information that we needed to process everyday. The point of computers was to make life simpler with regards to information. This was called the information age after all. But really, that just a scam, and we went in anyway. We didn’t care.

The hardware guys and the software guys were just hustling us to sell their wares. And then with the internet, the floodgates really just disintegrated and a new generation of hustlers, the web geeks, came along and made everyone spend even more time staring at those little black or gray slabs.

So now I’ve set the stage for you.

You and me, buddy, we’re no better than Pavlov’s dogs. Our brains are more gifted than we know at reacting a certain way for a certain stimulus. So… now… think about this for a second. What do you think happens if someone keeps getting in a mental loop where a few seconds of stimuli are presented and must then be immediately processed, digested and emotionally acted upon? Yeah, I mean all those multimedia apps, SnapChat, Instagram, Facebook, all those… what do you think this does to the brain. What is, in your opinion, the subtle and as of yet undetected effect of someone snorting everyday a few hours of TikTok, et al?

You see, you just made my point: you probably didn’t stop and think about it. I’ll bet your mind didn’t skip a beat as it went on to this line, right? Okay, I’ll explain… If you get someone to do that every day, you train their brain to make snap judgements at everything that scrolls past their fingers. And those snap judgements, when done hours a day, every day, train a brain to be very, very, exceedingly trigger happy.

This hasn’t dawn on us poor monkeys yet. But it will eventually. The problem with snap judgements is that you are not really thinking things through. The brain really has no time to reflect properly on things. Let alone ‘sleep on it’, ha! Its like devolving to seeing one move ahead instead of five. Suddenly your brain is playing checkers like a dimwit instead of chess. And it’ll start to do that… with everything.

Let’s go and put things in perspective by putting a hearty steel boot right up a hornet’s nest. Okay, so at this point all of you pansies that get offended and triggers you are cordially invited to fuck off. Snowflakes begone. What follows is for grownups.

Take for example gender dysphoria. Transsexuals’ have a +40% suicide rate. This is far, far more than any other psychiatric issue. And yet, here we are absolutely saying yes, and enthusiastically at that, to everything the loonies can ever come up with. Introducing transgenders to primary schools children who conceptually have no ideas of sexuality. Giving testosterone and mammary ablations to teens with only a 15 minutes doctor interview? Yes, that’s actually a thing in Canada. Now the rest of the world is starting to wake up on that but we sure as hell did not.

Beside mostly everyone being absolute cowards and terrified at offering a opinion that doesn’t heil the mob’s opinion, and for good reasons as today’s witch hunt will get people fired over a tweet and beaten up sometimes. Remember Highlander? At the beginning when he gets banished? Don’t kid yourself, we ain’t that far off. We’re right next door. But I digress.

Think. What possessed us collectively to just go that far opposite the pendulum that quickly? What could possibly bypass the need to properly think things through, sleep over it and reflect and ponder things of such importance?

Yeah, we’re monkeys. Dogs. Pavlov’s dogs. We’ve been training ourselves to make snap judgments on everything without really thinking things through and this…. this is the result. Information is not worth shyte if you don’t take the time to process it properly.

And so at the end of a long day, it becomes for me a question of sanity. There’s so much shit that gets dumped on my brain from all the various little screens everywhere that I need a moment to reflect. To think deeper and process properly. Like a bloody adult is supposed to do. And if I don’t do that, I’m just a stupid impulsive monkey. The Gom Jabar would nail my stupid ass in two seconds flat.

Writing this blog is like running a brush through long tangled hair except I’m doing this for my mind, my soul. There’s just too much stupid bullshit around us. I want to be able to process it, and sure, I also want to be the asshole who can say in five years “I called it! I called it!” Because usually I’m pretty good at seeing what’s coming up around the corner. And the worst part is that its so depressing to actually have called it because no one cares. Everyone is tik-tok’d into short terms thoughts of no consequences most of the time. I’m going cuckoo. No, forget about it. I am cuckoo. Because its either that or everyone else is a goldfish.

So no, I’m not writing this for you. Though, to be honest, if you’re somewhat illuminated I’d gain some more inner peace, if only because that means I’m not the only nutcase. I know that what I’ll be writing about will likely be very controversial because calling out the incongruities of our civilization is something I must do to reconcile my OCD against the vagaries of this world.

Oh, and Roger Wilco, from Space Quest. Roger was a janitor. Hope that explains things.


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