Jharrin4's Blog

Tick tick tick. 47 days to go. Will there be a shock to The System? If so, what voltage? A slight sensation of discomfort that quickly passes? A medium jolt that lingers and causes concern about System operations? Maybe a tweak or two to shore up the modus operandi? And then business as usual moving forward? Maybe the circuit breaker will be needed. Flip the switch. Get back up to speed. Maintain normal functioning. Increase voltage capacity. Command and control maintained.

Or. The jolt reverberates. There are minor aftershocks. The teacups in the System’s cupboard rattle. Wall art is at odd angles. The shockwaves recede into stasis. Damage assessment ordered. Check all support apparatus. Make repairs ASAP! Meanwhile assure the public the danger has passed. A return to stability and order. Pronouncements acknowledging the cause of the incident issued and assurance that every effort will be made to rectify said causes.

Or. The initial jolt is followed by even more intense aftershocks. System operations unstable. Certain segments completely unable to adjust. Circuit breakers ineffective. Pictures crashing down. Chandeliers severely swaying. Fissures appear in increasing length. Pipes burst. Code Red issued. Hang on. Ride it out. System redundancies kicking in. Backup contingencies switch flipped. Fortifications being ordered.

But. The biggest shock of all hits. The System’s foundation fails. Things fall apart. The center cannot hold! Run for higher ground! Take what valuables you can easily carry. Rest assured the financial apparatus will provide for System supporter recovery. Get as far away as possible. The structure has collapsed but the Safety Net is still functional. The cause of this calamity need not be assessed. Exit strategy protocol in process.

Fourty seven days.

Tick tick tick.

Time is a tyrant, as the saying goes. There’s an exhibition at a nearby library called “World on the Move: 250,000 Years of Human Migration“. Ah, humanity! Just think of what humankind has accomplished in that time. We invented fire. Which led to cooked meat after a hunt. Then we opened a gazillion restaurants around the world, where humans can drop in and order that fire enhanced food, simply at the cost of parting with some form of currency. The restaurant kitchen cooks it, and it is brought out to the human customer, sans loin cloth and caveman cudgel, who eats it. The restaurant does the cleanup. How’s that for human progress?!

This culinary advance has allowed some humans to approach food as a “eat to live” or “live to eat” mentality. We humans thus are far superior to the animal kingdom, where it’s hunt for food, find it, kill it, eat it raw, rinse and repeat. Forever limited to that do or die approach to survival. Occasionally, a human becomes the wild beast’s dinner, which implies that one must be very lacking in judgment for that to happen.

Moving on...

Then we invented the atomic bomb, and decided (the USA version of “we” humanity) drop two atomic bombs on Japan to end World War Two. That’s right the second world war. Oh, sure there were many wars before the Second WW, but the atomic bomb was not available for any of the others before it. That, dear reader, is real human progress. And now, Japan makes the most affordable and reliable cars in the world. Go figure. And Shushi is quite popular in the U.S. Ironically, Shushi does not require much fire to prepare. Raw fish, rice, seaweed. And now Japan, as with all other countries of world are united in what Mad Magazine calls one big global Love Fest. Okay. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but we humans do have a whole lotta love in our DNA: humans just love to…well…as with all the wars and then creating an atomic bomb…love to kill one another. We invented war. Had to! It came about as a cause/effect matter after we created “territories”.  That’s when killing became wild and crazy. We invented reasons to want to kill one another: objections to skin color, sexual preferences, cultural variations, and biggest of all whose invisible entity in the sky is the most righteous. We invented righteousness. You can count on wars being perpetual as much as one can count on shitty bosses, lousy pay, loud neighbors, overpriced pretentious restaurants with shitty food. We invented supermarkets (huge buildings packed with life-shortening processed foods, and e-coli-carrying fruits and vegetables). We invented irony. Sure. All the food warehouses here and there while about a billion of world’s population is likely half-to-completely starved. Which leads to conflict. And killing. Yes, we invented irony, that’s for sure. We invented “manufactured” irony. That is, one person is having that T-bone steak, while another is dumpster diving, all the while there being enough food for everyone if we just had better distribution/sharing of such. But we invented greed. So forget that “sharing” bullshit.

250,000 years! Not sure who invented humanity but whatever caused it resulted in a tragic occurrence (see last paragraph). But for most of those 250,000 cycles of the earth rotating around the sun (well, that is once science proved the sun was the center of the universe; before that, such assertions that Earth was not the center of all and everything, the human who asserted such would likely be killed for heresy). Ah. that same science that gave humanity atomic weapons helped save many an astronomer. Again, we invented irony. With all this conflict and killing the human race had to find ways to relax. Thus some brave humans tried eating things that might nourish them, or possibly make them very relaxed, or maybe kill the consumer of such. We invented trial and error. Of course. Not everyone likes Sushi, okay? But with such bold experimentation we now have Marijuana dispensaries popping up like, well, like poppies, another part of Nature that packs a bigger punch than weed, but the MJ plant has been proven (by science!) to be only psychologically addicting, not physiologically. We invented pain killers. Of course. Pain may be our bodies trying to warn of something being amiss, but the pain killer, especially our invention called opioids, can mask almost any pain. We invented unnecessary pain. Again, see above.  We invented powerhouse pain killers that–irony!–in many cases kills the consumer of such. Go figure. Supply and demand. We invented the profit motive. Of course we did. If there’s isn’t a buck to be made on something, what good is that something? No matter if it’s housing, food, healthcare or education. We invented the catch-phrase “Show me the money!”

Hey, there may be a lot wrong with what humanity has done to itself for a quarter of a billion years, but we try to make the best of what we have made so wrong. Kinda ironic? Again. But if you are able to access this blog post, then you must be in decent shape per housing, food, healthcare, education, or maybe even driving a Japanese car (so affordable, so reliable, and so…what else?, IRONIC). Then again , you might be homeless, pushing a grocery cart (we had to invent that cart per those supermarkets, right? So ironic how handy they are for the homeless, no?) loaded with rags and broken umbrellas, and cardboard. Yeah, we invented libraries. And yes, even the homeless can come in and read about history, or just snooze or maybe sit down at a computer and post their own stories about sex, drugs and alcohol. Oh boy, we HAD to invent booze, beer and wine. You know, to wash down those pills. To take our mind off of what we humans are capable of doing to one another.

Oh, and yesterday was the 79th anniversary of the first of those two A-bombs dropped on Japan. Two days from now is the 79th anniversary of the second bomb. There is a consensus, of sorts, that the next World War with be a nuclear version. If that’s the case. this library will not have any future “Human Migration” exhibits, ya think? Just try not to worry and try not to kill anyone unless he’/she has it coming, and eat, drink and be delusional. Remember, we also invented The Matrix. Hint: take the blue pill.

Greetings, earthlings. I believe that is the appropriate salutation, no? I’ve been working on my English language skills for quite awhile. You might remember me, and maybe not. I last visited your Mountain Sphere almost two years ago. I’d already visited a few times in the past several years, always glad to leave what appears to be a planet inhabited by the species Homo Sapien. Each visit became increasingly puzzling. Your H.S. designation, clearly being the dominant force on the blue and green-ish place you call Earth, has never proven to be an impressive force. I just arrived, from my home many light years away, an A.I. orbiting command and control center named Zardoz. Now you remember? Right, this is Zeldar, an A.I. sentient entity again ordered to take another look at what I still prefer to call Mountain Sphere. My Zardozian superiors had me refine my vocabulary since two years ago. As they put it, should I opt to unshroud my cognito and  seek interaction with an earthling, I am now able to resemble their average humanoid, in either of its gender variations rather than remain A.I. shrouded and simply observe the “news” outlets and, well, eavesdrop on some of the locals. So far, I have remained invisible. I just can’t seem to think that talking directly with any of them will do anything but make me want to get out, pronto–right?–which isn’t exactly English but then many of the Sphere inhabitants, even in select areas, speak in, is the expression other tongues?

My current mission is imbued by Zardozian upgrades as well. For instance, I am now programmed with a 900th generation processor, with bells and whistles–you like my earthling language upgrade?–provided by an Enhanced Ultra Ultra Syncopated Algorithmic Filtering Clarification Output Unit. Me and my new processor can much more quickly, and with a more accurate and extensive data base, finally determine the true–is the word essence?–of Moutain Sphere sapiens al a homo. See, I’m having fun with my new command of languages and dialects. That is to say, I am digging it, it being back here this time, though initial observation of said species is, not very much a–cool?–groovy?–far out reaction. In fact, in spite of Cammand and Control wanting me to unshroud–let it all hang out?–in A.I. Superior Enhanced Facsimile Imaging.

I am not near any of the mountainous terrains this time, however. My course trajectory landed me in a place with many–I believe they are called, monuments. Command feels these monuments may allow a less–how you say?, uptight reaction to earthlings of this area. I seem to have arrived just in time to tune into–I can receive any data eminating from far or near and choose what to submit for processing–a very animated and large in number, assembling of earthlings. The monuments have earthlings crawling around them. A certain large structure that my processor identifies as a “capital building” has the animated crowds nearby but I also observe what appears to be other earthlings, all dressed the same and appearing very stern and threatening, limiting the  crowd’s access into said capital structure. By scanning the frequences eminating from various points near the capitol, there is someone in that building that has the crowds outside of it very–what is that expression? Let me scan my A.I. vocabulary generator. Oh yes, very pissed.

Upon further data analysis, this person is a vistor from another part of Mountain Sphere. I sense he is welcome inside that building based on hearing what is know as Sapien, so-called non-verbal use of body language, “applause”. The crowds outside are not applauding. Many are–let me listen in a bit more intently–yes, many are using a different kind of non-verbal language that looks and sounds very intense, along with earthling verbalizations such as–let me fine tune this frequency–yes, such as , motherfucker, prick, asshole, piece of shit, and cocksucker. Zeldar A.I. processor indicates these verbalizations all having to do with various parts of any earthling’s anotomy and or waste products of said sapien organisms.

I said I was enjoying my new enhanced A.I. features, but now that “joy” has dissipated quickly, like the Maximus Maximus starship digital fumes when it races through space and time. The last assessment from two earth years ago concluded that Mountain Sphere–or in this case Mounument Sphere—was entirely embroiled in dysfunction, division, and self-made problems that are perpetual and unresolvable. The choas at Monument area is just more evidence that Homo Sapiens are their own worst enemy. They clearly are a species of very low intellgence. and each visit makes Zeldar all the more, let me say, pissed at again not finding any improvement. The good news foe Zeldar is that I can be transported back to Zardoz Command and Control, where I now am eligible for A.I.–what do earthlings say?–Rest and Relaxation.

If Command and Control wants another visit to this–is it looney tunes?–sphere it can send a new recruit. Right! Motherfucking right!

Eighty years ago today, 160,000 Allied troops stormed the beaches on the northern shores of France. There are precious few living survivors of that historic event. Weeks later, the Allied forces reclaimed much of northwest Europe. About a year later, WWII ended when both Germany and Japan surrendered. The approximate body count for the war, Allied and Axis military and civilians is 75,000,000. At the time, it was literally a victory for democracy over Fascism and military dictatorships. It was truly a world war.

Eighty years later, I cannot but wonder what the handful of Allied survivors think of the 2024 world that confronts them. How can any of us imagine what they make of 2024 as their fog of that war and what was at stake is embedded in their psyches? Those survivors saved the world, literally, from the forces of evil. It is the last war involving the U.S. military that had that massive of a mission to accomplish. It is the last war involving the U.S. in which losing would result in dire, drastic consequences.  How many of the generations that ensued after that global bloodbath even know anything about D-Day and what was at stake?

Many dignitaries are paying their respects to those survivors and over 20,000,000 of the fallen Allied soldiers today, on those same beaches in France. One of those people is is an eighty year old man who has helped one part of the world become a less safe place for a certain population. This man never served in the military. But never mind, he now is the United States Commander-in-Chief of the most well armed military in the world.

This man –unarguably–is supporting a bloodthirsty lunatic leader of a foreign country by sending weapons and money to him. With those U.S. made weapons and U.S. tax payer money, the recipient of such has, for eight months and counting, been bombing a literally defenseless population. With the world seeing this horrific situation play out in the modern age of social media, documenting tens of thousands of innocent civilians killed, close to half of them children, his presence at today’s observation honoring truly brave people who did make the world a safer place, is nauseating.

It is a bitter irony, lurking beneath the proper, reverent narrative of honoring those–as the saying goes–who gave some, and those who gave all–created by the presence of such a weak, morally hollow man. He is aiding to what even the United Nations considers a genocide. The commemoration of D-Day needs not include such an enemy of the literal peace and safety that such an enormous sacrifice provided.

Clearly, the safe, secure world that the Allied victory of WWII produced has been long ago disregarded as worth preserving. There are many other “dignitaries” who also are at the beach today who too should be kept away. I’m sure there are countless peoples around the world who have had any semblance of peace and safety taken from them by persons who have not a molecule of courage to use their positions of power and influence to regain and maintain what was–ever so briefly–a world of good over evil. May we never forget. At least for those of us who know of their sacrifice.

Hey, I’m finally coming up for air and ready to resume writing something on WordPress. Hell, I pay to have an active account, so let me make use of that expenditure by posting for the first time since February 10. My absence should be excusable since–let’s face it–nothing whatsoever new has happened anywhere worth opining about since back three months ago.

Oh, the season has changed from winter to spring. But otherwise the constant remains the same: the earth still rotates around the sun. Water still boils at 212 degrees F. Paper burns at 451 F. Bears still shit in the woods. See? Am I right or what? Okay, but that’s the natural world. In the unnatural world, however, things have changed completely. The Ukraine/Russian conflict has ended. What? It hasn’t? Really? Two years plus now? Well, at least the former criminal President of these United States has been convicted and is in a maximum security prison serving life with no parole, right? Huh? No? What? He instigated the attempted insurrection over three years ago, right? And he still hasn’t spent a single day behind bars?! That makes no sense. I can’t even beat a parking ticket!

Well, certainly, our current administration has cut off funding a clear case of genocide in Palestine. Huh? Right? What?! Out tax dollars are still paying for the weapons that kill innocent women and children? What. The. Fuck? What’s that you say, U.S. universities have seen large demonstrations by their students demanding a ceasefire to save lives. Hey, that’s great, huh? What? The police have been using rubber bullets and night sticks on them? Doesn’t the 1st Amendment give the public the right of assembly to voice their grievances? It does but still the cops are giving them the bum’s rush, along with maybe a night stick to the skull? Geeze, I thought for sure things would be better after my three months in a news cycle coma. Bummer.

Well, certainly the current administration has unleased its Justice Department on the fascist tactics in so-called Red States. You know, gerrymandering, voter suppression, draconian anti-choice laws that threaten to force a woman to be on the verge of death in order to end a toxic pregnancy. Or jailing a woman who has a miscarriage. What? The fascists just keep passing fascist laws and the current administration does nothing about it? What’s that? Oh, right. The current administration ( isn’t it suppose to be the opposition party?) is the one supporting that genocide. Ugh. I figured in my 90 day snooze that the moral compass would kick in with the current powers that be.

Hmmm. Well all of this same ol same ol shit will be settled with the election in six months, right? I mean that’s why we have elections, is it not, so the voice of the people can be heard? Just like in 2020, when We the People chose the current President to replace the insurrectionist that still hasn’t gone to jail. And that 2020 winner has stood up for democracy and…wait again: the current guy is the same guy who supports the genocide, and whose Attorney General does jack shit about the guy who tried to stage a coup. And current guy wants four more years? And the guy who the current Attorney General won’t put in jail is somehow being allowed to run for the same office again??!! Am I in The Twilight Zone?

Geeze. Isn’t there any change for the good in the last three months? Please tell me that at least the Atomic Clock has been turned back by 10 minutes or so. No? It still is 90 seconds to midnight? As close to global thermonuclear war as ever then, right? Well, if we all get vaporized it would kind of make sense. We humans are one crazy species. We make such terribly wrong choices. And when at least some of the fed up protest they get riot police sigged on them. Can’t any of these public figures be held to account?

At the least, can we cancel those Kardashians? I suppose not. Well, maybe I’ll have something to cheer about before long. In the meantime, keep the faith and know that The Rolling Stones are still touring. Still touring! Sponsored by AARP. The more things change…

I recently shared a photo from some online media site showing several young people–teens I would say–seated nearby a very large painting in one or another very likely prominent art museum. The painting is not identified in the posting, but it might be by some Dutch artist from a handful of centuries back. It shows about a dozen men attired in the fashion of the day, some with swords out, others brandishing a musket or two and and drummer, apparently, celebrating something or maybe objecting to a situation. Very likely some others seeing this imposing painting recognized it in name and the artist who created it. However, whether or not one could appreciate the painting’s particulars, the photo’s real focal point is squarely on those teens seated just feet from it. One’s attention is immediately grabbed by what the young gallery goers were doing the moment the shutter snapped: they are all looking at their smartphones. The photo’s framing was no doubt intended to elicit a reaction to its juxtaposing those focused on whatever was on their phones to the painting looming large in the background.

My reaction was neither surprise or consternation. If anything it struck me as reflective of our 21st Century attachment to our digital, hand-held devices. Ho hum. Why they were looking at their phones was beside the point, I thought. At the turn of the 21st century, they couldn’t be staring at much on a cellphone, except maybe the time of day. Now, the capacity of smartphone bells and whistles have expanded exponentially with digital research and development. There have been feature films shot entirely with the use of these devices. We are all connected, world-wide, by them, while simultaneously–to some degree– growing more and more disconnected from the non-digital world. You know: reality. In the moment, in reality. In nature. Minus any hand-held, or bluetooth or even wearing a smartwatch or fitbit. Like ancient times… like the men in that painting back, back, back in the day.

Seriously, do you know anyone, adult, young adult, tween or even some who haven’t reached the double-digits in age yet who does not have some version of a smart phone? The teens in that photo were all born into the digital age. Their formal education incorporates digital technology starting in pre-school. So, okay, they are all looking at their phones. No one knows exactly the context of that moment. The posting doesn’t identify much, other than asserting a custodian took it, but that may or may not be true. Who posted it? The custodian? Does it matter who took the picture? Well, I suppose so because if whomever took it had them pose for the shot, that would make a huge difference if known by an observer and his or her reaction to what is seen. Then again, would even a  posing by those kids make the reaction any different, given it would then be a version of photographic “art” imitating an undeniable, modern, reality. But there is literally no way of knowing who took the picture, who posted it on social media or why. 

Having said all of that, let me now share the reaction to my sharing the initial encounter of that photo to my Facebook page (and Instagram, of course. Me so digitized!). One commentator asserted the kids had already looked at the painting and that the photo was meant to “produce an ignorant and outraged result.” Thus, my reposting of it automatically made me an outraged ignoramus. Another commentator asserted the youngsters were using their phones as research (presumably they being on a field trip to the higher culture stratosphere of an art museum). When I responded to those commentators “were you there”?, one of them launched into a diatribe stating no, he wasn’t there but also didn’t see every vote in the 2020 election or ever having been to the Comet Ping Pong Pizzeria (why am I willing to believe that is a real place?). Also he could not say that Hilary Clinton is not molesting children in the basement (hmm what children?, what basement? The kids at that pizzeria, in its basement??). It was even suggested I could be with Qanon.

So, the moral of this posting is that we live in very troubled times. Hey, a picture is worth a thousand words, as that saying goes. In the digitally-dazed 21t century, a picture is worth a thousand insults for having the unmitigated gall, and brazen effrontery to just share a photo without offering any documentation of it. The nerve! Should I dump all my social media accounts? Go into hiding? Assume a non de plume? Certainly those who attacked me have looked at my FB and Instagram pages. They’ve seen all they need to see: pictures of musical entertainments, little children, flowers in full bloom, hotrods, bridges, tennis courts, downtown skylines, bicycles, food and a few well chosen faces, only a handful of them being me (or maybe NOT me). Clearly, a cover. I’ve been busted. Hoisted with my own petard.

But know this: I am certain those kids were looking at something. And whatever that something was does not matter. They are all now immortal in social media. And they have caused me to be a hunted ignoramus.

Yesterday was the fifteenth anniversary of Miracle on the Hudson. Except for those in their teens, that “miracle” should be a clear memory of a commercial airliner with 155 passengers and crew having to ditch into the Hudson River shortly after takeoff from LaGuardia Airport. The reason for the extremely dangerous water landing was a result of the Airbus A320 hitting a flock of Canada Geese shortly after takeoff, resulting in the loss of power in both engines. The plane was at low altitude over one of the most densely developed areas on the planet. The captain, Chesley Sullenberger III—now known simply as Sully–did not have enough gliding momentum to make it back to LaGuardia or any other nearby airport. Thus, he decided to attempt an enormously risky water landing. The potential for the plane to break apart upon hitting the water was a very real possibility. But break apart it did not, and in the 25 minutes before the plane would begin to sink, all passenger and crew were safely rescued. Cool and calm under pressure, 154 people have Sully to thank for their lives.

Time to turn that miraculous story into a metaphor. That is, currently, there’s a figurative airplane that is having very difficult problems staying airborne and that may eventually crash. Just what this metaphorical aircraft’s fate is, well, is quite “up in the air”. Who is the pilot? It seems–to my way of thinking–not to have one. Indeed, there appears to be a struggle by a number of persons to gain control of the cockpit. Worse than that perception is, clearly, none of the wannabee pilots has the keen instincts, the skill set or the calm sense of collective, positive purpose. Right now, I’d say this metaphorical aircraft is–as of right now early in 2024–destined to crash. The only question is how bad will that crash will be? Will it completely destroy the plane? Will its passengers have any chance of surviving in the short or long term? Will it ever be able to fly again? And with whom at its controls? I don’t see anyone trying to command this craft being worthy of becoming its heroic Captain. In fact, the cockpit chaos is being caused by a disheartening–even frightening–gaggle of untrustworthy candidates for commander. One in particular has as much as said he wants to ditch the craft, let it sink while taking who knows how many people down with it, and who could not possibly care less, as long he remains in charge.

We are all passengers on this winged metaphor. Many do not like any of the possible pilots seeking the controls. Some, as if in a Jim Jones cult, are willing to drink the killer Kool-Aid while believing it is the right choice. The least dangerous outcome is the crash does not completely destroy the craft, and that someone, perhaps with little energy left, limping from the wreckage, will necessarily leave the plane’s future–its repair and greater ability to serve its passengers with compassion and sincere support to a new Captain of admirable character.

This plane has less than ten months before it must land. Whether that landing is a disaster or, like the real one that remarkably remained intact until a complete rescue was made, remains to be seen. If there is another Sully Sullenberger out there, we would be quite fortunate to put our trust in him.

Many of us are indeed waiting for Sully. In the meantime, keep your seatbelts fastened, and those fingers crossed.