Sunday, January 31, 2010

How I Keep My Edge...

It is pretty obvious, I only write these blog posts when ticked off... and most typically, recently ticked off. The most common ways for this to happen include waking up with inexplicable rugburn, bruises, scrapes, whiplash, or medicine-headedness. There is a particular type of medicine-headedness that is associated with certain "short-term amnesia" substances that I know will show up in my hair. I have already been through this, but to reiterate, if you take a hair from the follicle, you can know on what day a certain substance was introduced to the body. So, that typical type of medicine-headedness really ticks me off.

What ticks me off even more often is when people flirt with me in a degrading or demeaning manner... like last night. Oddly, to keep this from happening, quite a while back I placed a flower in my left ear and started telling everyone that I am waiting for the day I can finally have a conversation with Mr. Johnny Depp. After all, my unfounded belief that he is the love of my life is my favorite and most enduring delusion of grandeur. Well, as I said, socially-incapable people kept ticking me off all night last night. Don't worry, there were some treasures of civilized social interaction in there... for example, Sistas in the Pit playing at the Grant & Green while the Federer vs. Murray 2010 Australian Open Men's Final played on the TV and while I danced. I also met a lovely bartender named Alex at the Steps of Rome Cafe. However, among the other people roaming about North Beach last night, there was enough stupid to make me hop online today and write even more innflamatory honesties.

A fine example is the bassist for the jazz band that plays at MELT! on Saturday afternoons. I should know his name; I am, afterall, amazing with names and faces, but for some reason his name did not register with me as important enough to make an impression. Well, my first conversation with him included his telling me that I need to learn how to keep a beat. That, I have noticed, was the only sincere thing he has ever said to me. Yesterday, he gave me a snide and condescending statement of how being of sound mind, body, and soul was the only healthy way to be. It ranked right up there with brilliant things people have told me, such as "You have a pretty face; at least you have something going for you in life."

My mom called me earlier today and told me she was visiting my little sister in the Twin Cities. My little sister bought a house in West St. Paul in 2008. She has had an untreated mental health concern since she was in high school, and I am always releived when they take an interest in her well-being. Along those lines, I informed my mom that I did actually file paperwork for my Power of Attorney responsibilities a bit after I returned from Mexico City in October. That was also after I had become a legal California resident, again. She asked me who it was, and I asked her why she was so concerned. Then I reminded her to make sure their house in Iowa does not burn down. After all, most of my childhood toys and objects are still in that house. This made her nervous. I didn't think it was so weird; I have long suspected she has a nervous condition... My sister once told me Mom has a heart condition. It could not be at all aided by living with my dad while he hears security alarms that are not really there. Huh, I wonder how many of my childhood memories are among my dad's belongings in the basement. My mom asked me if she could mail me cookies. I do not know why many things go on in this world, but I have some suspicions that my parents just got something in writing.

Considering my family's odd behavior lately, including my older sister who lives in Los Angeles, I hope we know to whom that house and all of its belongings will be left if something happens to their health. They even gave away our childhood piano last summer, much to my dismay and concerns about their just letting the antique move on to another person's house. Well, since when is one piano something to worry about... It was when my little sister stopped by to pick up memorabelia from her time in high school that I probably should have worried.

It is not so irrational as other things I have seen happening around me since hmmmm.... at least before I was hospitalized in the Twin Cities in May. It seems people are just terrorized lately. They live in terror of something. I wonder if terrorism works to make people civilized, courteous, and self-educated... or does it work more along the lines of making people speak irrationally, behave physically confrontationally, or even commit crimes.

It seems I have been making some people on some other coast nervous lately. Am I right about something I shouldn't even know in the first place? I wonder how long this certain subset of the US executive branch is going to keep trying to make other people their patsies.

Saturday, January 30, 2010


Okay, I am tired of constantly being tested on things that I have not claimed to ever be, nor things that people I have never met could presume to know about me... be they true or otherwise. Yes, I can dance... It does not mean you should force me to endure a test on certain aspects about my ability to dance that I have never claimed to be true. That also applies to singing, thinking "loudly" (other than acknowledging that I very much do NOT like being a means nor even an excuse to torture people), or anything else people say about me that I do not say about myself. Among other things, I should not have to tell people that I do NOT control the weather. Why don't the people who have a need to test ME over things that I do not claim about myself just go test the people who claim them instead? The fact I have asked for none of this is obvious... go punish someone actually guilty for once.

Among other things I never wanted to land on me, I only ever wanted a financially-sustainable career as an academic... as an adult, anyway... We all have different dreams when we are children. However, we have already discovered that when things land on me that I never wanted, I do my best to be socially responisible about it. It would help if I were allowed to know the full result of my actions. I am still waiting for the "priviledge" of that knowledge.

Other things I wait for include the medical community finally being able to acknowledge the chips placed in my head against my will. I would really like them removed. I never wanted them there in the first place; besides, they never told me they were there after they put them there. On the other hand, I will claim ownership for them since they are in my body now. That also means, to whomsoever their signals go, they need my permission to use that signal. For that matter, they need my permission to make the chips active. They already bypassed asking me my permission to put them there.

In reference to my previous blog post, I am also still waiting for anything that says "Test #3" in it to arrive in my email, voicemail, or post office inbox. I promised to list all things that show up with the phrase "Test #3" in it... I keep my promises... but only the ones that I actually do make.

When I was at orientation before my first year as an undergrad at the University of Texas-Dallas, one of our projects was to write what we wanted our tombstone, urn, memorial plackard, etc... to say. I found the paper at my parents' house in Iowa while I was there. Instead of my joke where I wanted my brain in a jar marked, "Previously Used," all those years ago in the fall of 1995 I wanted my final remains to be labeled with, "She left a mark on all she touched, and that is how she changed the world for the better." I should add that to my will.

Now, as for the slippery slope I have been harping on for months that goes along the lines of "Breaking more laws to cover your already ugly, naked backsides is no way to fix a problem," (By the way, my story about how to fix this of "You should have made me complacent; now you have to just admit culpability and end it," has not changed. Has the government's stories about why they do this to me changed? Please see my first paragraph in this blog post on how to deal with this.) I am now ready to elaborate on the results of some sort of force taking away my ability to use my old, busted-up tablet PC.

The supposed need by some force to take away my private computer has lead to my using a public computer in a public library in full view of the public. Not only does this mean that there are now all sorts of witnesses even outside of North Beach of how I do my own writing and in a short amount of time, but there are also witnesses of how no one, including myself, can search for things on computers in my line of sight that I might fidn useful. This includes searching the SFPL accessible Gale database for any academic paper, article, book review, etc... for anything with the keywords "Penumbra of Rights" in it.

I wonder how far they will push this one? I wonder if anyone else can search the internet for intructions on how to use the Dewey Decimal System right now? After all, it will let me find books in this library without having to search the online card catalog for them. I wonder if it also applies to the Library of Congress numbering system that I could use at other libraries. Huh, do you think it also applies to cookbooks with recipes in them on how to cook with... almonds? Yeah, three guesses why I am looking for those. Do you know how far this one big, ugly mess can go if no one admits culpabilty for it? This is why taking away peoples rights and freedoms and lying to cover it up is a slippery slope that all one has to do is admit fault for to end.

I just had a talk with a friend of mine in Iowa this afternoon. The main reason I bring up this conversation with my old childhood friend still in Iowa was because I needed to assure her that my issue with the Obama administration is not a personal attack on him. Obviously. He is just far from competent at this job. I know I should not be one to judge. I have never wanted to be the president of the U.S. I have never wanted all of that stress, but, you know what? It is still that apparent to me that at a time with all of these crises, someone competent should be at the head of the U.S. executive branch. All I am asking for here is "competent." I am not asking for a benevolent super-genius to run this country. Besides, benevolent super-geniuses prefer to hide... for obvious reasons.

She was also trying to assure me that I was just having symptoms and no one was ever trying to kill me. She, of course, lives far away. To which I asked, "Then why won't any doctors treat me? Least of all, give me an appointment in a timely manner?" There, of course, is no logical reason for any of this.

This includes the fact my own doctor claimed that the seizures I have when falling asleep and in my sleep are probably NOT do to being sexually violated repeatedly in my sleep; they are more likely due to something a neurologist could fix. So, I said, "Sure, I would love to see a neurologist. That doctor might finally give me that MRI I have wanted for months," which, by the way, is the normal procedure for a neurologist who takes in a new patient. Brain tumors normally have symptoms like seizures and irrational moods (including plesantness). I, of course, did not get referred to a neurologist. After all, an MRI would have found all of the equipment placed in my head against my will that no one is allowed to tell me about. It also would have made the metal chip in my nose hurt like all hell, so I'm not so upset for lacking all of the physical pain.

Along the lines of signs of physical trauma, we should all already know why no one is supposed to touch me on my back on top of my hair. This is because that is how they hold me down when they attack me. Of course, I am supposed to be drugged into forgetting it after the fact, and all of those drugs will show up in my hair when I finally get to have it tested. But, a body never forgets that kind of trauma, anyway. This also brings up the other slippery slope of, "If no one ever attacks (or attacked) me in the first place, then I would not have to defend myself... and NO ONE would ever have to defend me, either." Please think that one through, and then explain to the people who started all of this. I could use the help. They are still convincing people to attack me.

I think this might be my final point of the day... I think I might not be the only person with schizophrenic symptoms in this mess. The logic behind "The way you deal cards when you playing go-fish with little school age children makes me think you are a gambler," is equivalent to "The arrangment of pencils on your desk makes me think you want to kill me." Of course, I have said neither of these...

My hour here is almost up.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Let's Test Some Theories!

AND!  Let's all test those theories together!

Test #1. Here is my resume: My Resume
Now, you don't have to be Google, Disney, Facebook, the UC Berkeley Law School, the Judicial Branch of the US government, NASA, the American Ballet Company, an international airline, nor even Rolling Stone magazine to want to hire me and think I would honestly consider the position.  Here is the test for my theory.  Announce publicly that you want to offer me a career and see which branch of the US government calls you to tell you that I am not allowed a job.  There is no need to tell them that such a policy is illegal... They already know that.  However, whatever instructions and rationale they give you, get it in writing with the name, title, and the division of the government that that person represents.  If they cannot do that, there is no reason why you should listen to them at all nor take them at all seriously.  If no supposed person of authority tells you that I cannot have said job, come find me in person and offer me that job.  There are places I frequent with great regularity in the neighborhood of North Beach in San Francisco, CA.  Most locals will know how to find me.

Test #2. I need an apartment.
I need an apartment in San Francisco as close to North Beach as possible.  I need a roommate situation because I will only feel safe with an extra set of eyes around to see things that happen in my home.  If you have a spare room that can run for less than $1000 a month, here is the test for my theory. Announce publicly that you want to offer me a roommate situation in which to live and see which branch of the US government calls you to tell you that I am not allowed to live with you. As I already said, there is no need to tell them that such a policy is illegal... They already know that. However, whatever instructions and rationale they give you, get it in writing with the name, title, and the division of the government that that person represents. If they cannot do that, there is no reason why you should listen to them at all nor take them at all seriously. If no supposed person of authority tells you that I cannot have said home, come find me in person and offer me that living arrangement. There are places I frequent with great regularity in the neighborhood of North Beach in San Francisco, CA. Most locals will know how to find me.

Test #3.  Mail me something.
My address is on my resume above.  My theory is that I do not receive all of my snail-mail, email, nor even voicemail.  Try communicating with me and see if I am the actual person who responds.  Just to make it clear, I will record here in my blog all snail-mail, email, and voicemail I recieve with the phrase "Test #3." in it.

Test #4.  Press charges against me based on some sort of illegal thing the government claims I do.
This is the best way to see if the US government tells the truth about me.  I know they seem to have made an art of shooting their own feet, sticking those feet in their own mouths, and then not noticing they have no feet upon which to stand.  Of course, if the real me tells you something about myself in front of your naked eyes live and in person with my lips moving in synch with what you hear my real voice saying, that is not the sort of story that needs to be tested.  Nor do stories I actually put myself into this here blog need to be tested.  I keep this online journal completely honest to make sure that it can be admissible evidence.

Test #5.  Google me on a computer or web-capable phone near me.
If for any reason any hits come up, ask me to lean over and look at them.  Then, google me when I am not near you.  Please note any differences in hits listed.  If you are so inclined, leave me printouts or burn data discs of anything you cannot find on a google hit list near me.  Give such objects to a friend, and ask that friend to leave those objects anonymously at a public place that I frequent.  Let's see if we can end a particular subset of the US executive branch's reign of terrorism against this country together.

For other interesting tidbits... please read my "Penumbra."  It can be found below or (the last 2/3rds can be found) in audio file form at The Hotel Utah's site for your amusement.

The linespacing might be weird below, and I am posting this without proofreading.

The Penumbra

“Where a person’s good name, reputation, honor, or integrity is at stake because of what the government is doing to him, notice and an opportunity to be heard are essential.”

-- Justice William Douglas

Wisconsin v. Constantineau

400 U.S. 433, 437 (1971)

Gender Equality

We all as American citizens were bestowed by our forefathers the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. All people considered equals in the eyes of the law are given the right to vote and to choose our own representatives in the government. Therefore, according the First Amendment, with “no law respecting an establishment of religion,” the right to vote and the resulting government representation is not denied to us based on our religion. Furthermore, “[t]he right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude[,]” according to the Fifteenth Amendment.

Clearly, then, when we arrive at the Nineteenth Amendment which flat tells us that the right “to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex[,]” it is safe to conclude that the government of the United States of America considers all sexes as equal as it considers all races and all religions and that all rights concerning the pursuit of happiness are as equally distributed among all registered voters despite any religion, race, or sex. And, as if the point needed to be made more clear, the Twenty-Sixth Amendment confirms that for “citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, [the right] to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age.”

Even reducing the number of people considered equals in the eyes of the law only to those registered to vote, we can still conclude that all sexes of those considered equal, no matter what gender they may be interpreted as, are decidedly equal in the eyes of the U.S. government. Thusly, if a man and woman can marry in a State, then a man and man, a woman and woman, and a human and human, should, in the eyes of the U.S. government be free to marry in that State, assuming, of course, that they are registered voters. Any law expressly forbidding same-sex marriage among registered voters, then, should be considered unconstitutional according to Amendments One, Fifteen, Nineteen, and of course, Twenty-Six.


We all as legal residents and citizens have a right, as guaranteed under the penumbra of rights formed by the Bill of Rights of the Constitution of the United States of America, to personal privacy.

The acknowledgement of the U.S. government of this particular constitutional right began with the dissenting comments of Justice Louis Brandeis in Olmstead v. United States (277 U.S. 438 (1928)) in which he said that the Constitution confers, “as against the government, the right to be let alone—the most comprehensive of rights and the right most valued by civilized men.” Privacy became an officially recognized liberty with Griswold v. Connecticut (381 U.S. 479, 484 (1965)) when Justice William Douglas told us “… specific guarantees in the Bill of Rights have penumbras, formed by emanations from those guarantees that help give them life and substance. Various guarantees create zones of privacy.” And the right to privacy has been with us ever since.

This right and liberty as guaranteed to us under the penumbra that emanates from our already existing rights, liberties, and Amendments has guaranteed our privacy ever since. For example, in Carey v. Brown (447 U.S. 4555, 471 (1980)), Justice William Brennan assured, “The State’s interest in protecting the well-being, tranquility, and privacy of the home is certainly of the highest order in a free and civilized society.”

As one final note on privacy…

“…the Fourth Amendment protects people, not places. What a person knowingly exposes to the public, even in his own home or office, is not a subject of Fourth Amendment protection. But what he seeks to preserve as private, even in an area accessible to the public, may be constitutionally protected.”

-- Justice Potter Stewart

Katz v. United States

389 U.S. 347, 351 (1967)


As I shall prove in this section, we as legal residents and citizens are also guaranteed a right to knowledge that is necessary to protect ourselves, our minds, and our bodies under the penumbra of rights created by the Bill of Rights of the Constitution of the United States of America.

In the Second Amendment, we are told of the necessity for the “security of the free State.” Surely, keeping our country safe begins with keeping ourselves and our loved ones safe. The Fourth Amendment acknowledges “the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects[.]” Well, how could this be possible if we do not know when we are in danger?

Most importantly, according to the Fifth Amendment, we cannot be “deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law.” It is only the governing body that may distribute a legal, harmful punishment. Also, if we are levied criminal charges, the Sixth Amendment guarantees that we get “to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation” and “to be confronted with the witnesses against [us.]” Clearly, in a case where harm may come from the government by methods of due process, we are guaranteed the known information necessary to protect ourselves. And in these occurrences, the Eighth Amendment makes sure that we do not receive any “cruel or unusual punishments[.]”

Finally, the Ninth and Tenth Amendments open the door for the existence of the already established overlying penumbra by stating that we have rights as a people that have not yet been enumerated in the Bill of Rights.

Hence, between needing to protect ourselves, having the right to protect ourselves, being guaranteed due process, and being assured full knowledge of all harmful agents in times of due process, it is safe to conclude it is also then the responsibility of the governing authorities to dispense necessary knowledge of when we are in danger of harm to ourselves, our minds, and our bodies if the governing authority is in possession of knowledge that could prevent that harm.

--Squid B. Varilekova

Tuesday, January 26, 2010


Last night after my rushed composition of my first ever book review to be self-published online, I managed to make it back to my home neighborhood of North Beach in time to take a quick nap before catching the very tail end of the memorial service for the late, great Mr. George Tsongas.  Do you remember my previous post about how the Elantra I rented with which I drove to Yosemite could "hug curves like an eighty-year-old letch?"  Well, this is my second reference in this blog to Mr. George Tsongas.  I know, no matter how I referenced him or ever reference him, he would be proud.  This post is for you and our memories of you, George.  Yey! that I met you all of those years ago.  I was even at your eightieth birthday party.  Some of your poetry, George, has too many cusswords and bodily fluids mentioned for children... not that children were ever the demographic you aimed to enlighten.

In honor of George, I think this post will have to be about travel.  Yesterday just after I found the book on Giant Squid on the reference shelf and just before I bookmarked passages at random in it, I sat down at a table and next to a copy of a world atlas.  Randomly choosing a page, found myself in the geographical and cultural details of Jamaica.  More pertinently to this current blog post, inside the front flap of the dust jacket, I found this quote.

"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page." --St. Augustine

Hmmm... My first instict on where to go with the quote was to urge fellow curiosity driven peoples to visit still-standing evidence of parts of U.S. history that much of the country does not like to acknowledge, if it knew about it at all.  My choice for place-of-historical-evidence-for-the-day would have been, of course, Angel Island.  No, not just for the sweeping views of the Bay Area that you recieve when you hike to the top of the island, views that on foggy days make you believe you are standing in a snowglobe (literally, not just due to the lack of reality in here as of late).  But also because the buildings for the Japanese internment camps are there. 

Oh?  Huh?  You didn't know that the U.S. government created internment camps for legal American citizens of Japanese descent during WWII?  There is even a decomissioned Nike Missile site there... if I capitalized that properly.  Sometimes, people have to go look for themselves at things to know what "peculiar" policies our government had or, on occasion, still has concerning REAL, legal citizens in this country.

Speaking of which, I plan to move to Washington, DC in the middle of next month.  Last night, a petite man with poor Spanish grammar annoyed me to point that I actually raised my voice when speaking with him.  Being completely objectified by strangers deeply annoys and offends me.  It always has.  That weak excuse for a conversation drove me to think some things through with the only friendly and only intelligent voice in my head, the voice I pump myself through the typically government run speakers in my ears normally just to give myself some thinking space.  (Don't ask me how I fenaggled my computer-housed neural net to do that; I will never confide.  And, I know that the government lies to all y'all about what my neural net and I say to each other quite often.) I concluded that I should force this over as soon as possible.  I am moving to Washington, DC as soon as I can arrange it.

There are many reasons I should take a three month, temporary hiatus from San Francisco to the city that houses the center of our federal government.  The most pressing is that they will no longer have an excuse for claiming I am not real.  They will have to look at me, the dedicated broadcasts they send me, the lack of news in any publications I may come across, my local friends and family, and my irrefutably signature skills and abilities every damn day and night until they end this horror of an experience I have been forced to live through.  I must admit, as well, that it would be damn fun to take a walking tour of major government buildings like the White House or the J. Edgar Hoover building or even the Capitol Building... we all know that I know how to find a security camera (even if I do not know how to remove it, why it is there, nor where its signal may be going), that I notice and remember more details than the govnerment is comfortable with, and that I only rarely, if ever, forget a face.  And think of all of those foreign dignitaries who get to know I am just a real woman upon which our government enjoys defacating.

My master plan for this move includes asking family and friends from and in the area for advice, then researching airfares early next month for travel roughly from February 15th to May 15th, and then returning to the Bay Area safely after tax season and before the tourist season begins again in the summer.  Who knows, mayhaps the federal government will have manifested the civility to allow me job before I return.  We shall all see together. Please understand that the following few paragraphs are not meant to be maliciously worded towards my home of San Francisco.

If I move, the benefits to San Francisco that I see include but are not limited to San Francisco's ability to actually receive world news for once.  I am sure my home will enjoy that.  Similarly, I am sure the local businesses in the DC area will enjoy a boost in profits, especially in whatever neighborhood I might land... not to mention whatever music, art, dance, etc... may land there with me.

I have known since June when the horrors that followed me from the hospital in Minnesota to the town of Ankney in which I attended high school decades ago and then here to the city that should have known better, whatever place I live in will see all hell break loose and run rampant in the streets from the time I arrive until the day the locals realize they are doing these things to themselves.  The federal government, if it insists on its current policies of reaking havoc and terror on the citizens of our country, is about to see all of it break forth in its own backyard. 

Let's all hope the residents of the DC era enjoy the stupid yet expensive distractions propagated by the (same subset of the) US executive branch in an effort to get away with all of their true goals of horror just as much as the past few cities I have lived in and near have seemed to have fallen for them as sparkly distractions.  Then again, the government could just admit culpability and end it.  I am not holding my breath that they have that much responsibilty towards our country nor the citizens of this country's well-being.  Why would they do something legal and responsible if they could just keep convincing people to pay them for suspending all of my human rights (except for my freedom of speech) and continue to prevent me from ever seeing any of what they have done to me other than the things I can see in true evidence on my own body? 

I cannot be personally offended enough to kill myself until I know about where the signals from the cameras and bugs have gone and what they have done with that signal... so why do they keep hiding it all from me?  Why do they keep giving me different lies in here than you all get out there?  Why do they keep hiding their public falsehoods regarding me directly from me?  Why is it that I cannot get news concerning recent events?  Why are my friends intentionally instructed not to act like themselves around me? We all know the government's only planned exit strategy for this was my death.  The only option they have now is telling the truth.

I have never been after San Francisco for doing this to itself.  I have long had faith you will redeem yourselves.  Again, this is posted without much proofreading.

Monday, January 25, 2010

An Attempt to be an Escapist Distraction a.k.a. Pretending to be as Charming and Irrelevant to World Politics as Shirley Temple was (Despite the Mccarthyism)

I am attempting to lighten the mood around here a bit with this one.  I hope it ends up as escapist in content as I intend it.

Sometimes people ask me why I chose the name "Squid" for myself when I became old enough to know who I am.  There are theories that children grow into the names that parents give them, but I always felt (and I know many people who have done this) we should be able to chose our own names as adults.  This how I now have two legal names.

At one point while at an entry-level job when I still thought being a member of the feudal structure of corporate America was in my future, I was typing at a computer keyboard, and a coworker asked me, "What are you, a squid?"  when she saw my long tentacular fingers spinning prose in ASCII.  I decided to capitalize the first letter and make it my penname, and then it became my social nickname, and then it became my online-forum name, and then it became my art name, and then "Squid Bedlam Varilekova" became my second legal name... and so the creative nonfiction storyline goes.

I decided to keep the name for many reasons.  Depending on my mood and how friendly you are when you ask me, you might get any one or combination of truthful answers.  "It keeps me humble." or "It's a Squid-and-her-ink thing." or even "Have you seen me dance, yet? I look a bit like a sea creature."  I doubt that is the correct grammatical sturcture for a line of quotes; I know it is not the correct punctuation; but, I am sure no one will hold it against me.  People usually tend to hold the untrue things attributed to me against me.

So, as I usually keep explaining about my name, ever since choosing the name "Squid" for myself that winter/spring of 2000, I keep finding new reasons that the name fits me and who I really am so damn well.  To illustrate this point, I now present my first online book review.  I hope Richard Ellis will not mind the manner in which my sense of humor and level of self-understanding is about to land upon his 1998 publication "The Search for the Giant Squid."

I intend to do this from front cover to back cover making comments on reandomly chosen passages probably found by my insistence on perusing the pretty pictures.  There is one passage I chose on purpose through the use of his handy dandy index at the back of the book, and I will point it out when I get there.  Here we go!

Squid B. Varilekova's haphazard review of a book she has not read and only flipped through looking for pretty pictures:
"The Search for the Giant Squid" by Richard Ellis, published in 1998

The cover has a cute little green doe-eyed, glowing orange squid on it.  I presume it is based on the Humboldt Squid more than it is scientific projections of what an actual Architeuthis (Giant Squid) would appear like in the wild.  That is, the Humboldt Squid, should that one be so small as to fit on the cover of a book instead of being approx 25 ft long, do actually look a lot like this and are very commonly found in the waters off the coast of California.  Anywho, the squid is cute to look at, and if I were to judge a book by its cover, so much cuteness would tell me that the contents below the cover promise to be very informative and eloquently written.  Yey!

The first plate (Do we call them illustrations, now?) one encounters is a monochromatic representation of a painting by Richard Ellis himself, and it is found opposite the book's title page.  The caption reads, "In the most fabled of deepwater encounters, a sperm whale captures a giant squid.  Despite stories to the contrary, it is always the whale that initiates the contace, as the whale feeds upon the squid and not vice versa."  It is also quite a pretty picture to look at.

After the Table of Contents, I found a very well typeset selection from Melville's "Moby Dick" with the year 1851 quite well and appropriately attached to it.  The last few words of the selection read...

' "What was it, Sir?" said Flask.
"The great live squid, which, they say, few whale-ships ever beheld and returned to their ports to tell of it." '

Huh, I have long known that the sperm whale is the only natural enemy of the Giant Squid... which I seem to like puts capital letters on the beginning of for some reason.  But I must add, whales are endangered, and squid are not.  Perhaps this is due to the naturally ellusive nature of the Giant Squid.  Until we can capture one on film in the wild and convince her to sign an image release, we may never know.

On page 33, in the third chapter, the one entitled "The Biology of Squids, Giant or Otherwise," I encountered the second pretty picture that caught my eye.  It is an etching of the Vampyroteuthis infernalis a.k.a.  the "vampire squid from Hell."  This brought me back to a funny and completely autobiographical story.  At my best friend (Syniva Whitney) in the universe and beyond's MFA graduation gallery reception at the Sullivan Galleries of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago last May, our mutual friend Annie Terrell told me that she wanted to make me a "vampire squid from Hell" dress much like the famous swan dress worn by Bjork.  She said that it would take her a while to work up a pattern, a design, a whatever-else-necessary to make it for me, but that she would want me to wear it my first time I would ever accidently find myself on a red carpet.  I thanked her, and then I assured her that it would probably be a very long time before any of my screenwriting activities would ever put me on anyone's red carpet.  Wow, huh?  I have never claimed to be a psychic for a reason, but sometimes I wonder...

The "vampire squid from Hell" by the way, is not a real squid, nor is it an octopus.  It is one of those rare other types of deep-water cephalopod that is active more than it is passive.  And, also according to the etching's caption, it is a smaller squid that usually only makes it to 12" in total body length.

In the same chapter on the biology of squid, on page 41, a reader will find the one passage I used the index to locate in this book.  "Squids propel themselves--in whatever direction they choose--by a form of 'jet propulsion.' "  I want a rocket pack.  I don't know if I would ever wear it, but maybe in the spirit of Robert Downy, Jr. movies, I could have my own hard rock soundtrack if I had a rocket pack.

Again in the same chapter and on page 46, is a plate of the Giants Squids WANTED! Dead or Alive! poster created on behalf of the Memmorial University of Newfoundland in 1988.  "We just want to make a scientic study of, on, and with the Giant Squid," is not included in the text of the poster.  Not to mention, I am sure that the squid pictured in the poster probably had never done anything illegal in her life other than jaywalk or vandalize the occasional park bench or mens' room door. 

On the facing page of that plate, there are two adorable little footnotes that caught my eye as well.  The first refuted a claim made by a scientist named Beebe who "was dead wrong about the brainlessness of the squid[.]"  The second discusses whether or not nature should have given the squid red ink instead of blue as a sort of greater initimidation factor in the wild.  According to the footnote, at the depths in which the giant squids live (I have no consistent method of capping or not capping those two words.), all colors turn to black anyway, except for bioluminescence.  I wonder how Giant Squid look under a heat camera.

Page 49 is where I happened upon a discussion of squid eyes.  Apparently, looking at life through a squid-eye lens is not so bad.  Squids, it is presumed, have twice as good of sight as humans.  The largest eyes in the animal kingdom, not mention the largest staring eyes since they have no lids, belong to the Architeuthis... a word I seemingly do not italicize with any regularity.  At the bottom of the page, a reader also learns that the eyes of digested squids are the parts that deteriorate the fastest.

On pages 56 and 57, the last two pages in the chapter on the biology of squids, Richard Ellis discusses theories on why squid are naturally immune to nerve gas.  Did squid evolve this way for some simple life-dependent reason?  Or was it a form of prememptive adaptation?  Maybe someday we will figure out even that mystery of the Giant Squid.

I skipped the first two chapters and dwelt quite a bit on the chapter on the biology of the squid... I am pretty sure the following chapters will have the previously promised attention due a good skimming. 

The fourth chapter in the book is entitled "By What Name Shall We Call The Giant Squid?" At the very end of its first chapter, is a quote from "Annals of the Realm of Denmark" which was written by Arild Hvitfeld and published in 1595.  I assume it was also translated at some point into English.  The quote says, "In the year 1550 a curious fish was caught in the [O]resund and taken to Copenhagen to the King; it had the head like a man and a tonsure on the head; it had a dress of scarlet like a monk's cloak."  I did not read enough context to see if this quote was meant to be about a Giant Squid, but I want to think it was.

In the very last paragraph of the very same chapter, a reader can find the vernacular for the Architeuthis in many sea-faring languages.  My favorite was the Norwegian word kjmpeblekksprut which literally translates into "giant ink sprayer" in English.  If you follow the footnote at the bottom of the page about the Norwegian word for the Giant Squid, you learn that Richard Ellis consistently missepelled the word in a previous book with an extra syllable making it Kjmpebleblekkspruten.  This new word translates literally to "giant diaper ink sprayer."  Yey!  Languages!

In the chapter entitled "Battle of the Giants", the sixth chapter of the book, you will find a wonderful description of Mellville's "Moby Dick" at the bottom of page 133.  It says, "Herman Mellville's massive, mysterious novel is generally considered the consummate acheivement of American literature, the Great American Novel.  It has been called an elegy to democracy, a tract on the nature of religion, an investigation of man's relationship to the natural world, a conflict between the eternal forces of good and evil."  And goes on to state how, in Ellis's opinion, Melville's fiction may have been better at telling the truth than nonfictions about whaling and the sea.  Clearly, Richard Ellis is better at book reviews than I am.

On pages 142 and 143 still in the chapter "Battle of the Giants" which I soon learned was meant to be about the constant battle for survival between the sperm whale and the giant squid (a battle as time-immemorial as the ancient Pirate vs. Ninja rivalry... just underwater), the evidence of sucker marks left on the sides of sperm whales is discussed.  Apparently, the mark of a squid fighting for her life can be up to to 5" in diameter.  I wonder how whales feel about these sorts of scars appearing on their faces.  I can offer sperm whales only this as advice: If you did not attack that Giant Squid in the first place, you would not have to live the rest of your life with the sucker scars of failure all over you. 

The next chapter, the seventh chapter, is entitled "The Giant Squid in Literature and Cinema."  The chapter starts, as it probably should, with pretty pictures from interpretations of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  Following the path of the pretty pictures through the chapter, the reader will find a still from the "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea."  Next, is a cover of Ian Fleming's "Doctor No."  The references to squids-in-art, squids-of-art, squids-as-art, blah blah blah... keep going.  Maybe I was mostly drawn to this chapter by its title. 

The next chapter is entitled, "The Models of Architeuthis."  The pretty pictures in this chapter are mostly squid-shaped objects posing as or in displays at various natural history museums around the world.  On page 238, the final sentence in the chapter reads, "The spirit of Architeuthis may well be uncapturable; at least no museum has even come close to this fabulous creature--the largest living animal that has never been seen alive."  Huh...

The ninth chapter is aptly entitled, "Conclusion."  The first sentence in the chapter?  "Squids are not part of our world, not elements of our consciousness."  I disagree with that idea completely, but I am also taking it completely out of the context in which it was intended to be.  Did I mention, yet, that I have not actually read this book?  If Richard Ellis meant that the mythology and cultural significance of what a squid needs to mean to our society must be something not of this world nor an ELEMENT of things we can mentally conceive, then I might go with it.  However, if he means the squids themselves are not of this world... I deeply do not agree.  All creatures born in this world are a part of our Earth, and we all affect each other in more ways than we probably realize.

On page 257, begins the extensive list of "Authenticated Giant Squid Sightings and Strandings."  After that and before the Index, the reader will find the list of References.  It was comforting to see that I am not the only person who likes to quote and reference fiction and nonfiction alike in expert publications.  I will leave the surprise of the quotes listed on the back cover to any reader who manages to find the book.

And this will now be posted without ANY proofreading.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Eurydice's Lover Looked Behind Him, and She was Sucked Back into the Underworld.

That Orpheus and Eurydice story... People should trust that kind of love. I do. Besides, why would he ever think she would want to stay in the Underworld, anyway? Speaking of Orpheus, what was it Shakespeare once wrote?

"Say that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart.
Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame and huge leviathans
forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands."
- The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 3, Sc. 2

Hmmmm... along those same lines, one of my favorite (translated) quotes from Mozart has always been... "Love, love, love: That is the soul of genius."

While walking down the path of using the internet to look up quotes I can only vaguely remember (After all, supporting the internet is supporting local industry here in the Bay Area.) in order to find their exact wording, what was it Nietzsche once said?

"I tell you: One must have chaos within oneself, to give birth to a dancing star." What a wonderful commentary on our world if applied out of context and placed in the midst of a contemporary blog! Then again, a dancing star these days might be capable of other even more beautiful things if people would bother to tell the truth about her and to start some sort of truth-telling, benevolent cycle of their own.

I know a few blog posts back, I made sure that I linked in an accurate resource for the symptoms of schizophrenia. I wanted to make sure that everyone solidly understood that any and all of the multiple personality related symptoms are actually parts of diseases that are NOT schizophrenia. I was diagnosed in the summer of 2002. Again, I am so sorry that so many things got past me right after they landed on me, but they did make them look just like my symptoms.

Looking at the quotes above, my loudest and most enduring delusion of grandeur stirs up in my heart. No, not that Mr. Johnny Depp is the love of my life; although, you should trust Koko the Gorilla when she makes these decisions. (Are my blog posts becoming too self-referential?) No, no, no,... my loudest delusion of grandeur right now is that all art ever created from the first carving of the story of the Epic of Gilgamesh into the walls of Uruk up through everything manifesting right now by any form of expression actively forcing its way out of any human mind in order to exist at last in the world, have been and currently are about me. Why cannot I continue to think they are in the future?

Human expression is such a beautiful thing. There is no reason to stomp all over it. Poetry, music, literature, painting, film,... all humans need the freedom to express themselves however appropriately in order to better our world; even if, sometimes, it is only to make it appear more beautiful. If you woke up one morning and realized cameras were illegally inserted into your eyes, what would you use them for?... especially if you had no idea where their signal was being sent? If you woke up one morning and realized you were the only person left in this country with freedom of speech, what would you say? If you woke up one morning and still could not figure out all of the reasons why your own country whom you have loved all of your life was still using the public to attack you on the government's behalf, what would you do to stop it from continuing its cycle of ruin?

I have fallen into the habit of referring to starting benevolent cycles on purpose as "rolling snowballs down the mountain in the dark." You might never know where that snowball will end, if ever. Maybe the love of your life will become the highest paid actor in Hollywood; although, you have never spoken to him. Maybe your city will learn to defend itself without your directly doing the socially-responsible acts of pointing out the poisoned water supply, standing in front of the oncoming tank of intentionally propagated and highly dangerous lies, or pointing out all of the logical flaws in the morally-corruptly implemented supposedly diplomatic policies that intend to tear our country apart and possibly even end our world. Maybe even, you will force the truth to finally reach the public... all of it... all of the truth of how this started, how it went so far, how it continued for so long, how much we need this to stop (Stop signs are bright red, so we notice them.), and how the conspirators chose the wrong woman for it to land upon.

While I was sitting here, sipping my espresso, composing ASCII codes that scream with truth, waiting to see which people the government conned into attacking or misleading me this time as a government patsy who (by definition) is placed in said position in order to take the fall instead of the government itself, and actively doing my best to keep the (literal and metaphorical) peace, some force within my computer took away the proper functioning of my USB drives. Imagine that. Yey! that I have a library card!

But why would some force in my computer (which was so clearly not born within it, just borne there) want to impede my ability to speak my mind? Was it because I was standing for others' freedoms of speech and about to verge upon another similarly logically sound defense of the freedom of the press? Was it because of how scared they are of how right I am when speaking obvious opinions along side established truths? Or was it merely that I have not yet spelled out truths that they know I have already figured out? If they did not leave me as the only citizen with her freedom of speech intact, I would not feel the need to exercise it so often... Even if I openly admit that I must do all of this in a vacuum.

We all know that the only way to stop me is if the powers that be stop creating, propagating, and ignoring the things I am left to fight. That begins with removing the equipment put in my body against my will by finally allowing the medical community to acknowledge it. It continues through reinstating my basic and Constitutional rights, particularly my right to privacy. And it ends when all of the truth already alluded to is told to the public in order to prevent this from ever happening again. Global Climate Change is upon us. Someone needs to get humanity through this. The powers that be are not yet allowing me to even hear accurate news about it... least of all do anything active to help us.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Still the Real Live Breathing Human I Have Always Been ... And Still Waiting for Rights to be Reinstated

Have any of you other North Beach locals noticed that the non-locals hanging around the neighborhood seem to go through phases of dressing like the same masculine celebrity?  Ever since coming back to the neighborhood, I could play celebrity look-a-like bingo with categories such as "Actor who a Played Pirate at Least Once" or "Tennis Champion" or "Child Star All Grown Up Now" or "Dead Rock Star" or "English-Language Author with a Drinking Problem" and the like...  I should make cards and hand them out to actual locals.  Wait... were they real?  Or were they just figments of my imagination?  Whatever happens, at least something is feeding the local economy.

Then again, I hate playing games (against others, that is); I am so inherently anti-competitive.  I would never instigate one.  For that matter, if I found myself stuck quite against my will in a game that is clearly just a distraction to keep my friends, my country, my city, my world, etc... away from actually figuring out some sort of bigger truth when somehow knowing and understanding said truth might actually be for the betterment of mankind.  Well, I suppose I would hang around in my home neighborhood constantly and insistently acting like myself, wouldn't I?  Oh, huh... look at that... I've been doing that since June.  I am so sorry it took me so long to come home and heal myself into my normal behaviors.  I should thank you for all of that dancing... it is how I clear my mind.  Do we all know that, yet?

So, I am sitting around at MELT! right now.  I just watched Johnny and Doug play a game of Scrabble(R), and Deforrest and Paul are hanging out behind me moving little discs around the backgammon board.  Do you ever get the feeling that you are intentionally being kept from actively contributing to society?  If you ever need to know how I figured out that some sort of completely irrational governmental force is actively preventing me from having any sort of employment, you just need to ask me to my face.  People do that all the time.  It's as though no one out there ever discusses the truth about me... But, WOW! do those lies I am not supposed to know about sure travel fast!  I am constantly beating my latest record time at figuring them out from the way people around me treat me after they fall for said lies. 

Hmmmm... I have already said that I do not recommend anyone taking on my brain in a battle of wits.  I have done it before myself, and I barely survived.  I suppose even if you tilt all the odds in your favor with a bottomless budget; cameras in my eyes and bugs in my ears to know all I see, hear, and do; force me into a relapse of a severely debilitating mental illness I have had for YEARS by repeatedly violating my body (Please pardon my polite understatement on that one.); break every law you can uncover in an attempt to find new and exciting ways to cover your ugly, naked backside under the misconception that you are above the law; and even, I don't know, go above and beyond the description of evil by terrorizing my country, suspending my rights, and suspending my country's rights, and all it is necessary for me to do in response is tell the truth; abide by the existing laws; learn, think, and non-chemically self-medicate; stand my ground on behalf of my home (in all descriptions of the word); and use proper spelling, punctuation, and grammar whenever I can remember to... well, huh,.. look where all of that put me, and look where all of that put all of you.  I suppose I have to quote Obi-Wan Kenobi on this one, "Who is the greater fool?  The fool or the fool that follows?"

I might be done expressing that idea, now.  If I think of more to say, I suppose today will get two posts.  I'll just post this without any proofreading, as per usual.  Please enjoy my typos. 

Monday, January 18, 2010

The silver lining for me seems to be that I cannot hear the government's lies about why this still goes on.

Just in case the medically recognized symptoms of schizophrenia have not yet been made public, I thought I would provide a link for you to find them here.  Could you imagine having this disease since at least the summer of 1998 and then having to determine what is and is not real in a world where these things are happening to me for real after an international Code of Silence is dropped on me under which all of my friends are instructed to tell me "Squid, it's all in your head," when I ask them about all of the horrors committed against me that I have figured out through thought processes of my own.  I have never been stupid (Pardon that gross understatement.), and thank goodness for that.  But, sometimes somethings get past me when a great deal of money is spent by a corrupt government to make reality look like the symptoms the government already knew I have been living with and battling for over a decade. 

I have a theory that my battle with my own mind for survival makes battling the government for survival look so easy no one wants to believe "Squid vs. a subset of the US executive branch" is real.  Could you imagine being caught in a battle of wits with MY mind.  I am lucky I survived fighting my own mind all those years ago to discover ways to effectively treat my disease.  I do not recommend anyone else taking on a fight against my brain and its capabilties.  Then again, the government has made it abundantly obvious they never take my advice, anyway.

Our government's justifications to the public for wanting me dead?  Yeah, I would really like to hear those.  That may be one of the main reasons I am not allowed to hear the real news.  (And no one can tell me that they have not noticed my dedicated broadcasts are accuracy-free.)  I am the one most likely able to point out every way in which our government lies.  I am the one who has had to live through every method through which they have tried to kill me.  I also know who almost all of the people are who will come forward with the truths they know about these things once they are no longer intentionally terrorized by our government to keep quiet.  Besides, the government cannot seem to keep its story straight on topics of me.  That is one sure sign that it is doing nothing but lie a new lie to cover up an old one that was told to cover up another lie that was told to cover up a previous lie.  Blah blah blah... Why is this still going on?  Oh, wait, I am also not allowed to hear the lies they use to justify that either.

Oh, and while I am talking about this still going on... what was the justification, again, for why doctors are not allowed to treat me for real illnesses?  We all know about the nanotechnology in my body.  We all know that the Code of Silence was dropped on me (among many other reasons) to prevent me from ever figuring out that they were placed inside me.  Now that I know they are real, why are doctors still forbidden to treat me?  To remove the nanotechnology from my body? or to even treat the many ways I am not supposed to know that have already been using to try to kill me?  Have I said here, yet, that I know who most of the people are that will come forward with the truth once they are no longer terrorized by our government into not telling the truth?

When I leave my home, I interact with people who listen to and obviously believe the government's lies.  I do my best once I can figure out what the lies are to fix the situation with truth and sound logical reasoning, but I am the one who is operating under the Code of Silence, here.  So, in an attempt to work backwards from way people treat me to what the government lied to the pubic about, here is a list of possible lies the government told and how you all should know that no one should have listened to such lies in the first place.  Yes, I know that the government lied on many occasions already to force some sort of government patsy to kill me, harm me, hospitalize me, etc... so that the government would have someone else to hold responsible for all of it.  No one has killed me, yet.  Here are the first twenty lies I have a theory have been told about me that I can name off the top of my mind and the first reasons that come to mind why none of them are the truth:

1.) I am a foreign national.

I was born in the US.  There is a legal record of that.  My mother was there for it.  Except for a moment of personal crisis when I sought political asylum at the British Embassy in Mexico last October, I have never wanted to be a citizen of another country.  I thought it might prevent the US from falling apart if I were not living here as the government's victim.  Clearly, no one thinks these things through the same way I do.  Then again, with a Code of Silence on me, no one gets to ask me why I do what I do for my country, self, city, world, etc... I like to do things like quote the US Constitution at the government.  I am super-damn-American that way.

2.) I am an illegal foreign national.

I am pretty sure that the US government that knows so very clearly that I am here would have had me deported by now if I were an illegal immigrant.  

3.) It is okay to commit crimes against me because I am a foreign national.

Any breathing adult human within the boundaries of the United States of America is due the protection of the US government at every level from any known crime committed against or to be openly committed against that person.

4.) It is okay to commit crimes against me because I am an illegal foreign national.

Please see argument against lie #3 above, and please also remember basic human rights as defined by the United Nations apply to more countries that just those that are members of the United Nations.

5.) (This one is from government voices pumped into my head not from the public believing lies from the government.)  I was once a prostitute by choice to make ends meet.

If I were, I would have had to have be paid for it in order for it to fit the legal old-school definition of prostitution.  Then again, I am pretty sure I would have remembered if I had ever done it, anyway.  Hmmmm... this might end up as the only "Squid says. Government says." moment on this list.  However, for the government to believe I was ever once a prostitute, there would have to be some sort of legal record of my being arrested for it.  Otherwise, how would a local issue such as prostitution have reached the ears of the federal government in the first place?

6.) Allowing the government to force me into prostituting myself for the first time would have ended this.

Well, let's think about this one.  Where do I begin?  There are so many things to say about this particular lie.  I doubt I will actually list all of my arguments for this one here....

Forced prostitution is a war crime.  Forcing a woman to prostitute herself to end other atrocities be they against herself or others is still a war crime.  If we are not at war when it happens, it is a crime against humanity.  Then again, that might be a legality the government did not consider.

Raping a woman and making money off of it is forced prostitution, too; even if the woman is not allowed to ever obtain any money for it herself.  Other forms of prostitution, and I am no legal expert on these things seeing as I have never been a prostitute by choice most likely include, making money off a woman's forced public nudity, making money off a woman's forced pubic humiliation through forced pubic nudity, and any other ways of making money off of publicly sexualizing a woman against her will.  So, if the government actually honestly meant that if I were to be forced into prostituting myself by them all on my own to end this, they did not realize they were already prostituting me, and it should have already ended if that were not a lie to begin with.

As the last point I am listing on this one (though there are more), finally and openly becoming a prostitute under the old-school definition of such would not be retroactive.  It would not be able to make me a prostitute in my past.  It would not be able to create a fictional past under which past atrocities committed against me could suddenly be justified.  Please see the argument I am about to write for the next lie on this list.

7.) It is okay to rape a prostitute.

A prostitute is still a full adult human due all of the basic human rights due to any full adult human... no matter where that prostitute lives... no matter if that prostitute is an illegal immigrant.  For further clarification of this, please see the United Nations ICTY (International Criminal Court) Rule of Operation #96.  

8.) It is okay to rape a prostitute in full knowledge of the public.

It is not okay to rape ANYBODY.  If it is in full knowledge of the public, let's say, in the form of an enema, then it is a sure sign of the failure of the government all of the way from DC to local police if it actually happens.  It is also a sure sign that the American public needs to get its morality reviewed for just rolling over and allowing it to happen. 

If this country fails completely, it fails completely at every level.  "We the people..."  means exactly that.  The government should not be the one controlling us.  We are the ones who meant to be controlling our government.

9.) I believe I have superpowers.

If by superpowers the government meant I am intelligent, self-educated, and know how to use my library card, then I might actually go along with this one as real.  As for anything else, I have no idea what they might be talking about.  It's not like I can walk on water or something.  I know I can't.  I can speak the truth in a vacuum, though.  But that is something any one of us can do if we do not allow our government to terrorize us into not telling the truth.

10.) I believe I am Jesus.

I am an atheist that people like to tell is Buddhist.  Then again, part of Christian dogma is believing that God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit... blah, blah, blah,... is in each and every one of us.  It could be one of those it's-all-the-same things... I am a firm believer that all benevolent religions are fair game for finding spiritual guidance.  I wish I had more time to study more of them, but I have been a little busy lately actively not dying while trying to find a peaceful way to end all of this in time to get humanity through the Global Climate Change crisis.  Besides, of all the symptoms of schizophrenia I have had (and I know that they have been well documented by the doctors actually allowed to treat me... yes, that means the doctors I saw before the Code of Silence dropped on me...), a Jesus Complex has never been one of them.

11.) I try to control the government.

I do not like controlling anybody but myself.  I do not like being in situations where I have to tell other people what to do.  However, if people ask me nicely for advice, I will dispense my best, educated guess on how to fix a problem.  I will also, under the influence of my own personal driving force of social responsibility, speak up if I think the US government which is supposed to be controlled by its citizens needs to hear a voice of knowledgeable, logically-structured advice... especially if it is a case of physical safety for myself, my city, my country, my world, etc...  At my most extreme, I like telling the members of the US government to go read the US Constitution to find their real job descriptions.  For anything else, our government is going to have to manifest the civility to sit down with me and ask me politely to my face for advice.

12.) I do not actually write the works that the government steals off of my hard drive that I never wanted in the public in the first place.

Okay, the claim that I do not write the things I actually place in the public on my own is its own thing.  If someone wants credit for something I really did write all on my lonesome, I am the one person whom that accuser will have to look in the face and offer some sort of logically structured argument of how I stole from that writer. 

As for claiming that I did not write the fictions or even non-fictions stolen off my hard drive that I never wanted made public, the first thing the accuser will have to do is admit to stealing them, then show me where in the public that person put them, and then tell me what lies that accuser said to get away with it.  I am still waiting to hear any justification for any wrongs committed against me including lying about me.  There is a reason defamation is illegal.

13.) I am married.

If I were married, I would know.  In order for a marriage certificate to be legally binding it cannot be a.) forged, b.) signed against one's will, nor c.) signed by someone not of healthy mind at the time.  This stands for all legal documents that require signatures.  We also get to keep a copy of all legal documents we sign for a reason.  As I said, if I were married, I would know.

14.) I have ever been married.

If I had ever been married, I would know.  There would be a legal record not only of the marriage but also of the divorce.  It would also mean that I would have found at some point in my past a man whom I thought would treat me well on a long-term basis.  

I know many people have asked me why I do not have a tattoo.  My response has always been, "I have a fear of commitment."  I think I might be ready for my first tattoo, now.

15.) I have children.

If I ever endured the physical demands of childbirth, I think I would remember.  Besides, there would be a record of such childbirths with the hospital in which such supposed children were born.  Not to mention, there would be a record with my health insurance companies who would have had to foot the bills for the maternity care.  Well, that and the fact I would have been there for it.

16.) I have ever been pregnant and told about it.

There is a fuzzy zone on someone possibly making me pregnant when I was violated repeatedly and quite against my will and drugged in an attempt to make me forget it while I was under in-patient care at the University of Minnesota-Fairview last May.  By the way, forced birth control, forced pregnancy, and forced abortion are all other forms of war crimes that are also called crimes against humanity at times when we are not at war.  However, if they forced me to become pregnant while I was there and then forced an abortion on my body, I would have had my period while I was in there.  That hospital system knows other documented reasons why they did not successfully make me pregnant against my will including but no limited to my OB/GYN exam within their hospital system in late March as well as the methods through which they physically violated me.

17.) I am a drag queen.

What?  How can you call me pregnant and a drag queen and expect anyone to believe a word you say about me afterward?  Even after people born male undergo complete body surgery to become women, those women cannot have eggs with their genetic coding pop out of ovaries, travel down fallopian tubes, become embedded in the nutrient rich (due to monthly body cycles) walls of the uterus where it could become fertilized, and then after nine months on average of gestation exit the body through the vaginal canal.  I have lived in this body my entire life.  I know how my body parts are supposed to be working.  Besides, if a person born male undergoes complete body surgery to become a woman, that woman is a woman and not a drag queen.  The government is so lucky that one of the last things I would ever call defamation is being called a drag queen... unless that lie forced me to become physically attacked, harmed, violated, etc...  That is one of the many reasons defamation is illegal.

18.) I am a witch.

Be it witch (lower case) or Witch (upper case), this one is also far from being an insult.  I would also only call it defamation if it caused me to be physically attacked, harmed, violated, etc...  As I said, though, I am an atheist... an atheist that people like to call a Buddhist.  Look.  What religion I might follow is my concern.  As long as I am law-abiding, peaceful, socially-responsible, benevolent, and understanding, I have no idea why people need to know what religion(s) I might be studying at the moment.
19.) I have ever had plastic surgery.

What?  Where do these ridiculous things come from?  First of all, I have never been able to afford it.  My health insurance only covers reconstructive surgery, and I have never been through a crisis that would have ever forced me use such coverage.  Besides, have you seen my childhood photos?  I look pretty much the same just taller and with a full-adult woman's figure, now. 

I saw a photo of my mom while she was gestating me.  She was thirty-one years old in that photo from my childhood photo album.  I was, of course, thirty-one when I saw that photo; she looked just like me at that age just pregnant.  My mom is the vain type who might someday get plastic surgery... she is a little worried about her arms just like all women are at her age.  It's comforting for me to know I am aging just like my mother, just scaled up to the size of a Czech farm woman.  (I get that from my dad's side of the family.)  My mom looks just her mom used to, too.  It runs in the family this way.

I know, I know, all you superficial types are jealous of the love of my life... blah blah blah... We are so much more than just what we look like.  How many times do I have to say that?

20.) I am not a systemic rape victim of the US government.

Please see all arguments above.  Lie #20 is proving itself to be a lie all on its own, and the longer this goes on the uglier this gets.  It's not like I haven't tried stopping all of this on my own through what means you have left me.  All I have is my freedom of speech right now, an ability not to be terrorized into not telling the truth, and my wits to get me by.  As I said, though, the more and more people tell each other the truth instead of repeating lies from other sources, the less and less this government will be able to terrorize its people.  I know that nobody gets to consult with me on how to end this because the bugs in my ears and cameras in my eyes go straight to the government oppressing us, but I am doing my best here to get the snowball rolling in the right direction to end this. 

Well, there we go.  There is my blog post du nuit.  Did I get that right?  I have never studied French... among many other language for which I have picked up a convincing accent when speaking what little vocabulary I have for that particular means of conversing.  I mean, really, just because someone knows a few words in a language, it does not mean she is fluent. Speaking of which, have you heard how convincing my Russian accent is?  If I knew any Russian beyond the basic polite phrases, I would be able to use it in situations other than saying funny phrases in English after drinking too much whiskey. 

I have a silly habit of making up funny stories that are so ridiculous no one should believe them when I drink bourbon... most writers past, present, and future are often subject to this practice.  I do not claim to tell the truth when I spout of those fictions, anyway.  And when I do, if I say these things out loud, they are funny stories about myself and nothing that could be called a lie about some other person.

I cannot wait until I can finally get an accurate and unbiased test on my hair for any past drug usage.  Let's see it what I post here tomorrow is any more cheery.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

...still a doe-eyed innocent typing inflammatory honesties…

Well, I thought I might take most of today off from being tethered by my keyboard chord to the internet. I spent some time consuming edible food items, attempting to alleviate my emotional exhaustion as of late with napping, and, of course, sitting in Vesuvio handwriting notes into the copy of David Ferry’s 1992 translation of the Epic of Gilgamesh that I received from my dad for Christmas.

Until just a few minutes ago, I was lying in my room trying to listen to the local radio, but somehow and for reasons I never understand what I have long considered the dedicated broadcasts I am sent in order to never learn the truth chose to go out of their way to aggravate me. I already know that those that control the information that I receive through voices pumped into my head, voices pumped into my home, and through dedicated accuracy-free broadcasts have pretty much given up on thinking I will believe lies they force on me. Much like I have become roofie-resistant through months of enduring the poisons, I am also lie-proof, now. They actually chose to aggravate me. Telling inflammatory honesties is how I channel such anger into peaceful practices.

So, here I sit in Amante, listening to Valeriana, watching a Hollywood awards show on mute, and typing a rough draft of my latest attempt to end the horrors through which I still live. Yey, that Wizz made me an apple martini for old times sake, but I doubt I will be able to make it all of the way to the bourbon tonight. I have too much intelligent thought I need to spirit out of my body through my typing fingers.

Here is my latest conclusion starting from my knowledge base and built with my internalized logic: Global Climate Change is a cosmic event born of natural forces and aggravated by human activity. That is about as far as I can get with that one. I know I do not cause changes in weather, geology, nor geophysics… yet, for some reason, the truth about the changes in world climate are not making it through the filters on what news I am allowed to receive. This worries me.

We all want humanity to survive all of this. It has been established that the world needs a peaceful soul who is skilled with helping people who do not normally know how to get along with each other very well to find a way to cooperate. It has been established that this person also needs to be intelligent and knowledgeable enough to help find a viable method for humanity’s survival. I might have found such a person, but can we all get her out from under her heavy government oppression before the natural marching of Global Climate Change makes it all too late? I, for one, SHOULD flat out refuse to help a world that would allow any governing authority to intentionally violate me in such a way and with such repetition. Besides, under a Code of Silence, I would not know how to help anyway.

I worry about a certain part of this immediacy. And, we all know I am usually right about these things. I worry that our once fine country might end up invaded to end all of this in time. I worry that a group of world-conscious foreign countries will organize a means of extracting me from my abomination of suspended basic human rights. (And, as if that understatement were not far too obvious…) I worry that it will end our once fine country once and for all. We all need this over, but this timeline is not up to us. We are marching to the call of our dying planet, and a world-conscious power most likely with the aid of a socially-conscious group of US nationals who all actually desire to see humanity and all of humanity’s beauty survive our changing Earth, will likely take this matter into their own hands.

We all know I am usually right about these things. This all started, we all know, because the US government noticed something about me, and we know they know the most real part of me is my mind. Certain abilities of cognition need to be trusted at some point. Especially, if she makes a point of not lying. This is bigger than an incompetent’s bruised ego or even a number of incompentents’ bruised egos. As I said, this all needs to end.

Saturday, January 16, 2010


I and the voices in my head have already been through this. Please give Mr. Johnny Depp, he that is the only person that could keep me calm when learning the truth I have not been able to figure out on my own yet, as accurate a chronology as possible of what has gone on outside of my bubble of reality for over a year already. The voices in my head already know how hard it is to lie to me. I do not shoot the messenger, but I will know if you gave him lies to tell me.

As I already said, should that he decide after finally meeting me to flirt with me in an attempt to begin a wooing process, it is his choice. I would never make him do something he did not want to do… except for possibly the whole telling-me-the-truth thing which is, after all, still his choice… but I trust my gut instinct on the whole he-would-be-honored-to-tell-me-the-truth-when-this-all-ends thing. Oh, and please also tell him that the trigger to end my sleep apnea attacks and reopen my air passages while I sleep is “10733,” pronounced “one-oh-seven-three-three.” That is, of course, just in case (and this one is making me blush) we might end up in a situation in which I might snore.

While on the subject of things that the voices in my head and I have already discussed…

This is a photo of where President Obama stayed while in Hawaii with his family for Christmas 2009:

This is a photo of the sugar cane plantation that my grandfather was born into working on in Hawaii:

Should that anybody ever have doubted that my grandfather, my Lolo Duke, who later became a merchant marine, was born on work camp five of the Makaweli Sugarcane Plantation, all anyone would have had to do is ask me how I know. I will volunteer this information for you anyway. All of my family ties to the island of Kaua’i that I know of originate in Philippine ancestors who worked the sugar cane plantations there. Just ask any of them about that. Also, his baptismal record is still on file with the Catholic church in Lihue… if I got the right city name for the oldest Catholic church on the island.

I wonder sometimes if I have overcome the slave culture into which my grandfather was born. If for any reason right now I am laboring for anything in this world through any skills that I have and someone else is making all of the money off of it… or, dare I say, taking the credit for any social reforms and accepting a Nobel Peace Prize due to them… then I would be a slave, wouldn’t I? As is the tradition in this country with female slaves, I am even a rape victim. I saw that President Obama enjoys posing next to paintings and statues of Lincoln. Is it for the irony?

And still on the topic of things I have already discussed at length with the voices pumped into my head, please tell the government that when they run out of new and exciting ways to make a big mess even bigger and messier and even run out of lies to tell, as if a tangled web could fix anything, that they should tell Mr. Johnny Depp where I am. I am, after all, the one with the GPS tracker (among other capabilities in that metal object) in her septum. Did they not know I am the one who has lived in this body all of her life? Yes, I would eventually notice what unnatural things people have been doing to my body against my will, especially if such atrocities were repeated and repeated and repeated…

Quick question just before I go: I read that Middle Eastern nations are nuclear capable, but did they build the missiles, silos, and what not to go with it, yet? Oh, wait, I asked the voices in my head about that one already. They told me the missiles are in the same places as all of the aircraft carriers were when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Huh, I suppose my final question is, how many times has President Obama had a photo op in a fuzzy red sweater while surrounded by children since June?

Thanks for reading. It is comforting, though, to know I still do not have to lie… but I would like all of my basic and Constitutional human rights back at some point.

Friday, January 15, 2010

I feel like Cassandra. Nobody ever understands a word I say.

I feel like I am screaming at a wall sometimes.  I am constantly trying to give good advice here.  I am pretty sure, as of late, that the US government had been the only one able to see what I really do write in this blog.  But then why don't they listen? 

I have already spelled out how to logically consistently implement a mandated "Code of Silence."  You should have made me complacent.

I have already spelled out that I know what you really do to my body and drug me to forget.  A body never forgets that level of trauma.  Besides, those sorts of drugs, as with all drugs, show up in hair.  If you get a hair from the follicle, you can even tell on what day or night they were put into the body.

I have already spelled out where to find your actual job description.  Do I have to send you yet another link to the entire text of the US Constitution?  Yes, the preamble may mention the Judeo-Christian God, but the first amendment fixes that reference.  That is what "amendment" means.

But, while I am at this exercising-my-free-speech thing may I give you these bits of advice you will not listen to either.  Do not pick fights with religious institutions, member of the media, or even seats of knowledge that actually strive to do benevolent things, especially if, and I will say this in terms that the US government might understand, they will all have more money than you do so long as they do NOT go trillions of dollars into debt.  Do not pick a fight with Koko the gorilla.  This is not only because she is capable of language but also because the supposedly scientific process for finding her a mate always yields someone she would not choose for herself.  She is a smart lady, that Koko.  You should trust her to make decisions for herself.  Thirdly, and probably not finally since I will continue to tell the truth to end all of this horrificness, do not pick a fight with the only human in the country with her freedom of speech left intact, especially if you knew all along that she is intelligent AND educated and knows how to use her library card.

There you go US government.  There is more advice for you that you will never heed.  Besides, who let the President pose next to a painting of Lincoln?  That message is pretty confusing.  Does he secretly want an actor to shoot him?  Does he really want to be compared point blank to our historically acknowledged best president ever?  I mean, really, you need to be one hell of a president not to look bad standing in Lincoln's shadow.  Or is this a combination of not knowing what he is doing and getting bad advice from the people to which he actually listens?  We make all of our bad decisions ourselves.  Sometimes, we need to admit to them.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Help Wanted!

ISO new head of US executive branch.  Room and board included.  Great retirement plan.  Dedicated private transportation.  For full job description, please consult the U.S. Constitution.

(Let's hope we find someone willing to keep ALL citizens at least physically safe without terrorizing anyone.)

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Here is a LONG OVERDUE update; I am so sorry it has taken so long.

I was overcome with this strange sensation last night where I thought that people who love me wanted to hear my voice whispering in their ears.  I caught about seven seconds of the People's Choice Awards while eating a pizza at Amante, and I turned in early.  I also caught myself talking to myself while I tried to fall asleep.  I think I spouted off the first few lines of a summary I once wrote of the first book of the Kalevala.  You know, "As with all good books, it starts with the birth of the world..." and all that.  I am not entirely sure I recited that old summary entirely accurately.

I spent the holidays in the Los Angeles area house-sitting for my older sister.  You know, I've never had a bad time 'round there, and I did get to make new friends and see an old one.  Thanks again, for carting me around on errands, Christian.  I would have loved to have stayed longer, but my sister and I do not get along as well as we used to. 

I am more than a little worried about her.  I wish I could help her health-wise more than I actually am able.  Oddly, there seems to be some sort of local lore about me up here in San Francisco... You know how closely-knit neighborhoods like to talk... about how I could be trusted to accurately and effectively prescribe medications.  I wish I actually could help my older sister out that way.  Her exboyfriend is helping her get health insurance.  I hope she uses it.

Huh, as I use this silly old computer of mine today, the stylus has two dead zones: a horizontal band and a vertical band.  It is probably an artifact of my old symptoms that I believe that these dead zones completely randomly occur though always in the same places on my screen when people are watching me use my computer.  As if to confirm these suspicions, the battery on this computer dies faster, and the computer sucks more energy when these dead zone for the stylus occur.

I could go around telling people all of my conspiracy theories, but included with the ways people wrong me physically, mentally, and emotionally is a belief that some sort of "Code of Silence," as the voices in my head like to call it, means that no one, including the medical doctors that my health insurance companies so faithfully pay for me, get to acknowledge that any of this is real.  Under the logic of said "Code of Silence," then, said doctors would have to commit me to an in-patient psych ward, again, if announced I had suspicions that the government were the one so clearly attacking me.  They would, of course, have to invent some way that I am a threat to others or myself to get me in there where they could do whatever horrific things they want to me.  Psych wards have that sort of history. 

When I chose the middle name for my pen-name before it became my second full legal name (I have all of the paperwork for this; I just have not filed it, yet.) well before my first psychiatric hospitalization, I chose the middle name "Bedlam."  Does anyone remember the etymology of "bedlam"?  It comes from "Bethlehem Asylum" where all sorts of supposedly medical and even more speculatively scientific horrors occurred to the mentally ill.

So, for fear of ending up someone's unwilling walking chemistry experiment to an even greater degree, I pretty much keep to myself on these things.  I bide my time researching human rights as defined in UN charters, treatises, and declarations.  I download indictments and judgments from United Nations International Criminal Court trials.  And, I lean on my support system here in San Francisco for emotional health.  I dance, sing, express, emote, and thank those that help me do all of those in order to meditate, self-medicate, and heal.  And I make damn sure I am living as emotionally, mentally, and (slightly less successfully) physically healthily as possible because living well is the ultimate revenge. 

The fact I am irrationally pleasant, though, after all those months of not being able to smile due to all of the times I am physically violated in my sleep and drugged to forget it.  I blame that new irrational pleasantness on a brain tumor.  Nobody should be this pleasant after all I have been forced to endure.  I wish they would have bothered to give me an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Image ?) of my brain in order to look for a tumor when I was admitted to the University of Minnesota-Fairview in May.  It would be nice to know if this brain tumor were real or just the most logical conclusion I have been able to reach for why I behave the way I do.  Is that not normal operating behavior when someone has such severe symptoms of paranoia and delusions?

Sorry for any typos... I'm posting this without much proofreading.  Oh, and be prepared for some posts detailing the things that happened around here in my neighborhood in December.  Yey!