Triumph of Innocent Joy......

Yea, that's one bahuumpa grandiose title, don't ya' think? But dang it, every now and then what's wholesome and happy needs to have the stage. Them who know me, my writings, know I love to look at the ladies, they're pretty. If you're waiting for me to change my mind about that pull yourself up an orbit and get comfortable, you're gonna be here a while. Now I like to pair up the ladies with a music that sets a theme for her, sounds that set a soft harmony to flowing muscle in motion. All things considered? It's just plain hard to beat this one for absolute unabashed joy in motion... this is what I watch when I've had a bellyful of the political bullshit and I'm ready to say "let the dumbfucks burn, they brought it on themselves..."

This is what brings me back to saying "nah, gotta keep trying, this, I mean yes sir this is worth trying to protect." Enjoy.

An Anecdotal Backfire…

I don’t think it was a Tuesday.  Might have been a Thursday.  In any case it was early in the summer of 1968 and early in the afternoon and I was hanging out at a friends house.  His mom was headed downtown, and knowing we were headed in that general direction later yelled at us going out the door “you boys want a ride?”  Of course we said yes knowing full well we’d bail out and hike back, but hey, anything to cut the miles on the feet.  We put a lot of miles on our feet that summer.

Now Mrs. Baggins (not her real name, of course) was a rather conservative woman, she had to be really, she was married to a most prominent man in the community, prominent in his church as well, and Mrs. Baggins full embraced the conservative culture his position demanded.  Of course back then I really had no idea there was any other culture, being as how my mom was of the same sort, a rabid John Bircher who didn’t allow much by way of any external culture into the home.  It was her way or the highway if you get the drift, to her Democrats were without a doubt servants of Satan.  Yea, one of those.

Anyway, half way to where we were going to bail Mrs. Baggins copped an attitude, and I mean big time.  She turned to us and with a tone of voice I’d later learn means distilled malice said “Let’s go laugh at the hippies.”  

She cut away from the main road to take us down the little lane that runs along the edge of the beach in Oceanside.  It’s a slow little road, pedestrian choked, think the speed limit was all of fifteen miles an hour.  So instead of a quick ride to within a few blocks of our destination my buddy and I were subjected to her ogling, and utterly mocking, the young folk on the beach for a lot longer than we wanted to listen.  Oh dear lord, the expression on her face to see the California girls in their really very modest (by today’s standards) bikini swimsuits.  Didn’t know what to think about what she was radiating about the boys (being all of 12 and innocent having absolutely no idea what a case of the hypocritical hornies look like), but it was distinctly uncomfortable and riding plenty of wattage to jump the Pacific and be heard in Tokyo.  We were within a couple of blocks of where she’d have cut back for the main road when the traffic got snarled, bringing us to a complete and total standstill for almost five minutes. Those five minutes changed my life.

The little lane was, probably still is, lined with cottages facing the beach, and we stopped directly in front of one where two handsome young bucks were sunbathing in front of their quarters.  They were definitely gentlemen of leisure that afternoon, kicked back with a beer and watching the pretty girls put on a show on the sand.  They even had music to go with the show, they’d put rather large speakers in both front windows of the tiny cottage.  Good speakers they were, sitting on the road I could hear the music quite clearly, it was very good fidelity for the day.

Anyhow, that was the first time I ever heard the Moody Blues, the guys  were listening to “The Afternoon, Forever Afternoon” they were, an utterly enchanting music.  Of course Mrs. Baggins all but hit the roof, fuming and sputtering and all but slobbering on herself in utter outrage that, that hippies  could have a music so delightful.  She dialed on her contempt to combat max, my buddy quailed, retreated, withdrew.  But she was his mom, not mine, I had a little more maneuvering room.  I remember looking at her turning red with outrage while looking at them smiling and waving, looking at her puffing up like an adder turning her nose up in the air, looking past her at the pretty people on the beach, and then looking away from her with a very major decision made.  I didn’t put it in these words, I really didn’t know these words back then, but the sentiment was instant, absolute and final, translated into the modern it would read “fuck her with the horse she rode up on, I’d rather be there, with them where there’s some beauty in life than with some frigid hate filled bitch like her.”   

That was the moment I quit being a conservative and started down the path to where I am now.  Odd, but yea.  I never went back, never really looked back.  

The moral of the story?  Beware letting your bigotries go naked in public because you never know when they might become the point of negative comparison that will turn someone in the exact opposite direction.  So yea Mrs. Baggins, thanks for taking me to laugh at the hippies. Sorry (not) that it backfired on you so big.

The Tardation Matrix…

Once upon a time, back in my prior life, I did a bit of safety work for my company. The work wasn’t all that hard, and yet it was horrible. The idea was to be professionally paranoid. You were supposed to try and figure out how, working with what you had, you could blow up the world and kill someone in a totally new and novel manner. You’d make up lists, work from diagrams, and stock from stone to steel and strut look at each thing and ask the same set of “what if…” questions.  You knew you’d done some good when you’d get that sinking sour oh shit feeling having just realized yea, that could happen, and most likely the operator would not survive.  Half the battle won, the threat was identified.

Half of being successful in such a study is setting it up properly in the beginning, defining that list of questions, establishing the risk matrixes to match the questions. As mentioned in the post “Q, Q and A” for the last couple of months I’ve been collecting the final tailings on my recon run across the world of the social media by observing the ebb and flow of a professional right wing propaganda page on farcebook. I’ve been living among the one’s they’d call lib-tarded, I wanted to get a quick look-see on the con-tarded side of things, focus on the right wing side to observe how the mechanisms and malice that has done America so much harm was being deployed there. To even fake a decent matrix I pretty well had to, no matter how distasteful and discouraging it turned out to be.

That’s what this post is about: beginning the process of defining the tools of the job, what questions are to be asked of each thing, what are the cascade potentials between the questions and what is a realistic risk matrix to match the range of possible answers. In short, that oh-so-critical groundwork. So with your permission I’m gonna start by setting up a multi-dimensional array to organize the questions to be asked and the answers derived concerning component bits of the social interaction where tardation happens. I’m gonna mix pseudo code with text, we’re in the declarations section of writing a program. I’m not asking anyone else to keep track of this, it’s for my thoughts, but what the whale, it won’t hurt to share/show how my thoughts are organized.

Option Base 1 //(for them anal enough to ping a technicality later)
Dim Human As Variant // human can be anything

Human = Array() // A dynamic array, wide open at this point.

// no shape yet, no dimensions, just “heads up computer, it’s coming your way.”

I’m not the first to say it, not by a long shot, but I’ve repeated it more than once elsewhere because it makes sense to me that all things that are both mortal and alive will share these three needs in common: the need for sustenance, security, and procreation. Pretty much everything in life will load back to one or the other of these three primal needs. So I’m going to define the first dimension as things serving the cause of one of the Big 3. (I’m gonna tag on a couple of undefined slots, they don’t cost much while they’re empty, just to have some spares in case something else comes into view that really should play at a primal level.)

ReDim Human = Array(5)

//2=sustenance; 3=security; 4=procreation; 1 and 5 open/null.

Ok, that was easy enough, but it’s time to go to work for real now because hanging down from each of the big three is that list of questions I was talking about, the ones that will be applied to each and every thought put into the machine. These are the engine of the beast. You build an engine to match the load you want it to pull for you. So just exactly what is this engine supposed to do? It’s supposed to illuminate the hidden ways Tardation was inflicted on the American people.

So tell me again, what exactly is that definition of Tardation? Tardation is a manufactured and artificially installed psychological malady, essentially an addictive state of life where irrational political beliefs are deliberately sublimated into a life as the working counterbalance for the equally deliberate creation of a dysfunctional individual psychology within the victim. 

In other words, Tardation is how you produce the most disgusting and dangerous of the political spectrums: the snitches and the sneaks, the spies and informants, eventually the Brown shirts and Fingermen who physically enforce tyranny on their countrymen. The mechanisms of Tardation are the line of supply feeding monsters into the service of the political.

So the current objective is to figure out how you deform the psychology of an innocent infant to the point that by the time that infant is thirty years old it will be firmly convinced that it is doing God’s will to betray, torture, and murder his fellow human beings in the name of the political cause that provides the antidote to his addiction. And, of course, having figured out how to do it make damn sure and certain that it doesn’t happen. That’s how these studies work… first you figure out how to make it happen, and from that figure out how to make sure it can’t happen.

What kind of things play deep enough in a human life to facilitate a state of Tardation? Corrupt religion (#2, security, emotional)? Deformed sexuality? Deformed sexuality concealed? (#3, procreation // #3->#2, procreation vs security)? These are the sorts of things that will have to be sorted and ordered into the next dimension of the array. I’ll leave you to make your lists, I’ll make mine, maybe we can compare lists next time.

Later gang.