Chemical Abrasives For Your Hard To Reach Places

Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?~ Morpheus

Things that have not been on my mind: Delta waves. Healthy O2 saturation. Rest.
Things that have been on my mind: The recent House story arch, Fight Club, Dissidence.

I have sleep apnea. Officially undiagnosed, but there anyway. For quite a while now I have woken up every morning feeling fatigue nearly equivalent to when I fell asleep. While I have yet to hallucinate during my waking hours, I have had a few potentially unpleasant episodes while driving to work in the morning. This has not been addressed medically for one reason: If the Navy decides they want me, I will have THEM diagnose it, then pay me disability for the rest of my life. If the Navy decides my medical history is too shady and they don't want me, well, then ill get checked out immediately.

I digress...

In recent weeks I've noticed that things have become less... weighty. I still have every desire to go to work in the morning and satisfy customers and proform admirably. I still run in the evenings. I still see my friends socially on a regular basis. But when things happen in the course of the day that should create stress... Its like I'm slowly becoming a duck's ass. Things just roll off me. This has helped my customer service considerably, as it allows me to deal with both loud and angry assholes as if they we'rent spitting in my face. I've noticed also that my usually very very low inhibitions in social situations are even lower lately. This should alarm any of you who've known me for any length of time. I was on a counter humping a cash register in a gamestop full of people in the mall on my lunch break the other day. It was very brief, but it happened. Tonight I had a conversation about precolombian architecture with everyone in the back area (what used to be the smoking section) of my local Denny's. I would like to point out that I know little to nothing about the subject and was making it up from whole cloth at full tilt as the converation wore on, and even presided over a debate about columns (doric and ionic).

I stayed up for excessive amounts of time often enough in my youth to be wary of the next stage of sleep deprivation. The Navy can't give me an answer soon enough.

OH about that.

I have discussed enlisting as a Cryptologic Technician Interpretive (translater with security clearance) and have even fetched my medical records for the recruiter. I go soon to take the ASFAB then DLAB. Could be very very good. Feel free to completely skip the obligitory 'bad time to join the military' and 'your gonna get shot' and 'the military is hard' and 'your selling yourself to the government' and 'you have a problem with athority' speaches please.

Anyway, my copy of a copy of a copy of a copy needs to fade to black for a while now.
...anyone wanna start a Fight Club?

Hacksaw Harmoics

When one stops to goggle slack-jawed and bug-eyed at the realities of the world around them vis the sociopolitical climate and the more mundane (yet no less tame) complexities nascent to their tiny wedge of existence and the employment that allows it to function... one realizes that they would have been better served getting an Orange Julius and rolling over, tongue lolling in the dirt, until apathy and culturally-inspired brain damage set in. The deviously soul-depleting mannerisms of our corporate-ideology based employment regime drives us in turns to both better ourselves to be qualified for increasingly better compensated positions and to strive in abject futility to constantly find that one thing we all need: to get to the next level of pay-grade. If only I made x-amount more a month, I could afford useless-shit-Y that I've always wanted. No longer do we leave the safety and communal warmth of our enclosed and xenophobic tribal dwellings to venture among the forest primeval in hopes of somehow bringing down that large fanged beast that did rend our cousin limb from limb to gain some measure of revenge and face the long arduous task of dragging it back to the village to carve up and roast, thus feeding our tribe for another day. Costco has become our Forest Primeval. IKEA has become our Mecca. No longer do we thresh the long grains of our endless prairies to provide bread for our young and beer for our old. The time of the Hunter-Gatherer has, perhaps, past forever from our culture. What pride then is there in awakening to the buzz of an alarm before the sun has even shown its face to scape the stubble from your jowls and mousse your hair into position above a smart tie complimenting your slate shirt and charcoal slacks before commuting to a place wherein you will sacrifice all the light the day has to offer by appeasing managers and customers alike in that futile and never-ending ritual known as 'work'? Revel in your ability to buy things, my compatriots, for at the end of the day our potential for wanton consumerism is the only reward allowed us by the society we helped to create. Horde your useless knick-knackery, polish your dust-gathering shiny shit. Find what solace and meaning you can in your collectibles and contemporary ergonomic furniture.

Rebel, my friends. If you've any love of what you have left to give to a world that doesn't even know it's missing it, break free. Do something meaningful. Don't just react. Act.

Hojo Volente.