Back Again Itinery

I had to reboot over the audio, and have nothing to post really, my legs thick, losing water weight at the end of summer, pondering my fate as I close my fifty fourth year. My father's house cleaner is due to visit to "assess" my unit, and if you want the truth, fuck that, though she sounds totally harmless. I want to leave where I live, despite everything, even the probability that I'm signing my death warrant, and I'm going to ask this woman if she'll help me pack, whatever she assesses, with my aunt and her shrieking ugliness. I'm so sick of people, spinning like weather vanes. My entire family knows full well they hate public housing, but because I'm a cripple, oh, it's good enough for me. I'm tired of Marie. I'm tired of my dead mother's voice, telling me to be reasonable, that I'd love it here, that they give concerts. I'm tired of rationales, trying to defy my own biology, even my lack of social media popularity. I'm infected, indeed, placate twitter with sugared civility, sis a seethe, not that the connections are useless, and some of the disability account holders, perhaps they feel sorry, maybe believing I'd be happier in Sydney, or Estonia. Helpific, last I checked, follows me, but again, what would I do as an emigre in the Baltic states? I logged onto their website, typed a profile, and with no prompts required, feel like a damn fool. I like them though, would undoubtedly be happier with no Africans in sight-- aren't I awful, simply incorrigible? What would they call me? väike fašistlik? How would I get there, with what, especially with Putin's eminent domain issues? Slavs. Damn me if I comprehend their mindset, personality cults, collective dissidents, as it were. I may not get the Menippean aspects of Bulgakov entirely. He is a bit of a puzzle, but even the good doctor knew, how and where we live is rooted in a great deal of vanity and cruelty, and I'd raze every damn government housing authority to rubble if I had the power, which begs the question of what I'd do next, even if I did not create this account to dismantle policies, or even to write about remaining bedridden for the remainder of my life in this tough Southern European body as opposed to deciding it's time. I've scaled back on that discussion, despite recent events. I don't believe in it, never did, but the alternatives in my case are fairly dire, unless, and the unless is what's lacking. People I actually like who would dare not to leave me at the mercy of punishing indigence, and I know it's a lot to ask of those appropriate to my station.

Diabolical Frames

Helpific began to follow me on twitter, the micro-blogger wanna be conglomerate, and as usual, I plodded out a profile on the site without formally translating the requests for help nor entering one of my own, befuddled as to what Estonians or Russians would believe themselves capable of doing for an embittered American on the other side of the world, then pomdered the rise of Putin cronyism, tickled my fancy with the notion of soliciting a contract in code, then thought of the FSB alerting the FBI to my account, considered the irony of that. Yet there are provocateurs who waste Putin's opposition for the sake of a unified Russian federation, and Armin Mueller-Stahl has to reflect with some accuracy how the Slavic triad works, an extended association of family and connections.

Zsolt Bugarszki invited me to post on Helpific, but I'm not sure a criminal solicitation was what he had in mind, nor am I partial to Baltic collectivism, the bear lurking on the eastern front, as another one bites the dust. I have to make coffee and set my alarm, get to bed earlier this morning, having rescheduled my evaluation for another power chair which your taxes shouldn't have to foot, but even my desire for illegal retribution to balance the scales hits the blank slate of not knowing whom to trust to attempt a quid pro quo.  I'd have to risk something myself in return, in lieu of  offering federal reserve notes.

Zsolt told me the site is in Beta, probably not a bad idea, in the long run, and since we're on the subject, this local meet up raises the usual material versus intractable ethical conflict. I may follow Richard Dawkins. I may learn from him and may even agree with him that Catholicism has a mild polytheistic doctrine, but we'll destroy ourselves if we believe we'll eliminate anti-social behavior through neuroscience. I'm really happy that I am not going to be around to witness how we convert the human animal into porridge, our species knocking itself off without the benefit of an asteroid.