Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.


Context Smirk

The bi-directional highway between anger and happiness is a walk on a road you choose, and prepare accordingly. Answer to knowing keys played alone, within eye the comfort that comes haunting.

This is what your life has become, theatre of the mind, allusions of friends manifested upon your stave by the calling of the notes. Reflections of successful, and talented people, busy with their own lives. Time is a shallow knowing of the trauma it flicks, seconds hardship creates the smirk, tilting with the chords.

Your song demands no audience through an obligation any longer. When no one is obligated, remnants of the capable caring and compassionate, at will shall bring the respite on the way.

Judging, importune willingness not demanded, but earned in your practice. Choices own lifetimes, shared, becoming the lifeline tracing tides and the magic carpet ride. A line that may not be the shape, or the direction, or the magnitude of what you seek, but you have the choice to walk that line also sunshine, so spread those wings and make like an illusion we can all bring into context.

Time and the weather pediments at the call of an elixir, dancing soul barometer measuring the metronome of the terrain, in fragmented quantifications of the sociopathic tendencies, affirmed as logical reason and sound judgment by the most vicious adjudicator in the universe. The one constant, controlled only by the mind of men, that claim very control of figments and dried sweets.


Objects must conform to our cognition argued Kant. Cerebral manifestations now occur in bit cursives in all shapes and senses that are pivot points.

If the hell begins to creep more and more into the shadows your sun they basked in, be assured few reflections wish it to appear, and somehow, they do. Sepia smiles from the geometric form risen to be seen in passing circumstance.

Only then will you begin to see the beauty in the song that has been played, and choose to play the songs that you were blessed to count as the one’s that touched you the most, that make the pages of the mind want in connection to the harmony that seems to play so soundly in the senses. Seen and spoken, but reflected only by the experiences lived.

Balls that were but toys, amusing and fascinating to the wooden work horse capable of carrying the importance of the task at hand. Little to have, he held his world in high esteem, and the weight of imagination held no place within the bags that held the ransom time demanded. Invested and paid for with such a cost, the value of it growing a fond return to the simpler days.

Melancholy and somber, the sounds and the choices seem so distant to the moment at hand. So grand, and all knowing of the ability to be, and allow the universe to provide the wealth that you so deserve, for in youth, there is nothing that is not an entitlement. Ravenous to consume and conquer, walls that you believe provide shelter are stationary against the actions of men that leap from behind them. Leaving their safety, aware of what lays on the other side.

The end is not as it will seem, for anyone.

Least, me.
For now is the time my fingers dance.

The darkness you hear, is just the passing of the keys smirking.



Smelling salt

How you can feel so bad, and somehow you need the smell of a cologne, you have not worn it or looked “good” in months, years – how can you feel good?

Is it the media that says this, or just natural human desire?

What is going to make you beautiful, despite the life that is lead to the reflections and the journey that you take, each day to define the life and wonder that comes with the hope and desire to do?

What we do, often is seen as a need to satisfy the other’s in a society that demands reflection is only the purpose in paying attention to the detail that you must notice in the other’s attired. Never weary to continue to reflect the living of the person that sits in front of you this moment, on the screen.

Is it a shadow that you see, and one that includes yourself – travelling the roads, or having been along a journey the sheds a tear, and you reach for the tissue. Emotions.

Controlling your actions.

Watching it all, to experience it. To tell yourself a story, and remind yourself of why, today is a beautiful day.

In all of my poverty, and in all of my stupidity, I find my self worth and vast riches, a blessing no one can value but myself.

To have been blessed, in these recent days with the challenges, and to have been able to walk those miles with my mother, to have seen my niece and nephews smiling and growing…


In my gulch, there is no money. The fool considers me a peer and a sibling, who ponders the monetary note as anything more than a means to an end.

The intent, and the glory of it all.

The struggle to find the peace, only then becomes such a thing of beauty you abide by nothing else.


A Reflection from Variable on Vimeo.


How deep is your love?

I know your eyes in the morning mall
I feel you touch me in the pouring sales
And the moment that you wander from the aisle
I wanna feel you at my register again

And you come to me with your summer tee’s
Keep you warm in the winter with Gortex sleeves
And it’s me you need to blow

How deep is your Fed
I really need to learn
Cause you’re living in a world of fools
Breaking you down
When they all should let us be
We long to shop, you and me

I believe in blue
You know the door to a season’s soul
You’re the light in the deepest, darkest tower
You’re my cash when credit falls
And you may not think
I care for you
When you know down inside
That I really don’t
And it’s me you need to grow

How deep is your cred
You really need to learn
The machine tolerates no fools
Breaking you down
When you all should let cogs be
We long to consume, you for me

*Lyrics adapted from: How Deep is Your Love, The Bee Gees

I am a reader, like you, of many different publications, and my taste could be called as eccentric as some of the writing I review and participate in, much like yourselves. Yes, you. The reader that has come here to find something that is going to be considered in a different perspective, and as such, is to be a reward for doing so. We all love being considered unique, and intelligent, and quite frankly would agree, that yes, humans love rewards. They are good things, and they often come with results that revolve around tangible things, and because we are intelligent species, we also know, that these rewards can be benefits that are softer, or can not be touched, except through a sensual realm we would all recognize upon discourse.

So we love the material world, we have heard and seen so much of this, that we could point to the animation series interpretations, or watch 30 Rock, hoping to see vanity affirm that after 6:00 p.m., only animals do not wear tuxedos. We relish in the stories of the Walter White hero, who has to not only fight his cancer, but his urge to have to do whatever he had to do, in order to survive and try to provide for his family. The change to his character is based on ensuring his family lives well, unlike his life until that point, struggling to provide a living, as opposed to super charged, spoiler, cocaine fueled, metallic stallions.

Kenny “fuckin’” Powers becomes a lore that pervades the musings and wanderings of a generation that no longer needs books or lockers, as much as they do the size of the hard drives, and the access to speed and cloud resources, that their elders possess and keep hallowed with the same gyrations of outcomes if they were so blessed as to have been Kenny. Shame, the supporting characters were not as prominent, or we never got a chance to talk to the faceless extra’s on the set – they are the one’s that make up the real story.

No? The characters are “you” right?

You can completely relate to Scarface, and Goodfellas, and of course, Bond? Ladies, amazed at the intelligence and insight from Oprah, or the CSI detective, strong and intelligent, but passionate, bold woman?

My river can run as deep as the pitcher’s of beer, or as long as the papers have glue to stick it all together, but let’s just say for brevity sake (*yeah, sarcasm and self indulgent smirk included at this point in my frant (c), a Feta-rant) at the very least, see “just” about every show, every media report, every thing we ever see, whatever that is – comes with a desire to be seen, for some kind of recognition, or gain. Some kind of material want, we “justly” get it.

The time has come to consider how amazing this new generation could be, and what the difference may be in their approach to life, that will surely be different than the one occupying Main St., USA, today.

There is never going to be another time in history, where we step back from the advancements of what we have now. At the very least, the most incredibly important things, like water, food, electricity, media now…all will be provided, and ensured, because we are not animals. We are not filthy, disgusting animals that lick their own assholes, we may lick another’s for fetish reasons, or in order to actually be able to progress in that job, that gives me another 15 minutes of spare time to stare at a cinderblock wall, floating away on a magical device that stimulates the mental holograms I need like crack to get through the day, but licking my own asshole is not only not possible, it is not even a desire.

I am an intellect. I am worthy of high praise, I am the human specimen – well, I am the Fetaman, really a man made of cheese, and has all of the properties of being human, and has lived as one his whole life not even being understood as such, but he is made of pure feta and brine, and sure as the words you are reading here, I too am not only capable of logic and reason, and laughter, and good masturbation jokes, but I am in your category perhaps, so let’s just say we are all worthy of this high praise.

We deserve all of these goods, and have earned them, and once we have gotten at least the basics undertaken, in this “re-matrix” animation, making sure we do not advance backwards from the first physical needs, we will stay alive, as a human race, prioritizing with the same urgency as a mongrel horde, or the living creation of a blanket of black lesions representing a historic map that nearly wiped out the greatest creation the universe has seen.

We fail to really focus on the importance of clothing, in the realm of survival, we take it for granted, we are entitled to have all of these items, it is what makes us better than the wolves or the lions, or the donkeys. Exposed privates, and that whole natural survival thing, no, we can save that for the National Geographic shows, or those of us that really like the outdoors, and they can do their Mountain Equipment Co-op thing, or use their down filled parka’s in the desert to catch a new sand tic that may reveal the location of the Ark, or some tablets – we have the technology to read this tic’s DNA, and it will be plugged into the same computer than can calculate an estimate of something not humanly possible, based on the roll of the random number generated outputs, and their collective intelligence, so we should use it.

But clothing – never.

It is a basic necessity, and as such, helps us define what the place of ourselves is, relative to our friends, peers, and the unionized collective. I know, you may be thinking I am being a little harsh here, with the whole “union” reference, but it kind of works right? We have a communist leader example we can use here, that is the solution according to so many of the anarchists, and the intelligent ones who have now figured out the importance of keeping pubis trimmed to close, and looking good. (*hint: the answer is webcams, and the spatial ratio of projection relative to light sources and intoxicant combinations during certain phases of media transfer as recognized by alpha bio nutrient fueled Intelligence Gel (c) as provided in standard new born birthing, post 1984.) so why not run with it. The lead communist leader has the best uniforms, and the top members also have nice badges, and medals and things that you sew on to the traditional garb, and voila, we now have a visual class system.

It allows us to not only be seen differently, it can also be a measure of how the economy is doing. This is the basic thought behind much of the media today, not necessarily specifically only about clothing, but hard goods, spending, the acquisition of the more important things in life, like a fine sound system, and killer useful Christmas presents. Badass speed, NASCAR speed spending – you got a sticker, we got a place to put it. So let’s measure some stickers, according to a piece I noticed on BusinessInsider.com titled “The 10 Cities Where Americans Spend The Most” that was written by Mike Dang, based on Bundle information, amongst other sources.

I had been fascinated by the original article I had seen (*this truly an intelligent piece, and is food for thought for those of you willing to reap what you sowThe State of the Internet.), and just closed it planning on commenting, or writing about some of the thoughts going through my head, maybe simplify it, break it down to a 140 character context. Look for 20 word outputs that may be “flashes of brilliance” that the masses to know, I mean, I like you need to be heard, and I am so damn important, I should not even have to work or pay taxes, that way I could contribute with my amazing and brilliant ideas, and make the world a better place…*headscratch*

The top 100 cities of America were randomly surveyed, according to a wandering dalliance, and yes, so unique, what do the 18 million American “shopaholics look like”? Fascinating stuff, yes, we will be able to tell so much about the world with this data, it has never been considered before. But we shall be tricky say the survey takers, we will outsmart them, with the simple questions, asking them about vague memories or very firm ones, that range will be great amongst the union classes from office to conveyor belt, that revolve around household expenditure on shoes, clothing and other wear. The authors gathered the findings, which include input from the wonderful machine known as Citi, and voila, I had some good chuckles at the manipulated and telling tale, of the truth that was chosen to be shared, but why it was shared, and why you react the way you do, hell, I am no fucking Kreskin (*remember, a man made of feta “headscratch*).

Simply, the article lists the 10 cities. Quick, easy to read format as you see, based on a quick set of virtual slides, on the proprietary software. All you have to do is click the arrow, and another surprise city announcement comes to you. If you are one of the people in the city that look at those numbers and smirk, is that a weekly average? Well, you are one special human, right? Maybe you can email me, and we can become friends, and share Instagram shots of the items we just had to have.

*mouthing the words “email me” as I type this, just not sure if the webcam caught it, or you were multitasking, so yeah, email me*

I summarized the general findings, in this first picture. Consider it a simplified info-graphic that uses that old-fashioned translator, math. I know, out there. Here we see a couple of interesting things, in one snapshot that takes the mental calculations out of it. Wanted to keep it easy, or perhaps guide you on the journey of the information, in a form that makes my message seem both relevant, and validated.

How Deep is Your Love - Part I

Go ahead, I am sure you are nodding at how simple this all appears right?

At the numbers that were used, the annual spends look to be a little on the high side, but this is acceptable, we are talking about the top 10 cities from the spending side, and 5 of those cities are in California, and Texas. Makes sense, with the large population centers, and the corporate developments. This is pretty good stuff. The other cities, seem to fit, sure, some retirement oriented, older, well established family stuff. Nothing to see here, or be surprised at, it is like the telephone number on the bathroom stall. Good for a quick dip into the imagination, or filed into the memory bank, and off you go to wash your hands at the sink. On to the next one…

Not so fast.

I did not pass over the information so fast. I have my own reservations, and thoughts on a number of things, and like many began this conscious stream of thought, that had me starting off with assuming the questioning and the professionalism of the survey, and the data was prepared properly. That is was handled by an intern, that was managed by a boss, that was managed by a Board, that reported to the shareholders, about the shit that they sold them on and off the books.

I am going to remain “real” on what my thoughts on this are, and I have stated it before, the numbers will tell you whatever you want them to, so asking them to tell you what you want, is an art. Let’s assume we can appreciate this form of “art”. Consider it like a logo, or a brand – that is art, and that is another topic.

I copied the cities into a workbook, and used the data to project, or assume a couple of straight line valuations, that were logical. If we took the monthly average, and simply multiplied by 12, we would have an annual spend. So taking the simple average of all the cities, voila, we have a magical average that can be multiplied to show us about $2,749 in actual spending, and about $3,573 of gross earnings, at a 30% tax rate assumption.

I know, nothing too surprising here, hopefully there are more of us that do that, then don’t, but I do not think that is the case based on the numbers of people that are capable, willing, and time enabled to consider more than the 30 seconds of city pictures, and a number that ranges from $200-260/month.

Who cares about the sixty dollars a month difference, that is not that much. But I disagree, that is $15/week, and for some, that is the difference between eating, or not, being able to get the medical attention or medication they need, or not. I am not going to get into my theory on what my role is in that, or yours. I am a proponent of the gulch, and I abide. I own my miles, and I expect anyone else that can, to do just that. Own them yourself. I am going to confirm however, that you will know the wealth, or the respect one has for it, when they are aware of these small things, for it will be them, that will amount to great returns.

This is something most barber’s know, but keep it a secret so you can keep paying them in cash, and in kind.

Now consider the “other side” of that, in the growing sense, that equals about $720/year difference. That is net spending, and gross income, or the spin off economic benefits not included or required here, to illustrate the difference that this amount of money could make in someone’s life, over a decade. Sure, you are not going to want to have another $28,000 plus compound returns over 4 decades. You would rather light your candles with a scented match at least you can eat the memories when the pension promised by the machine is no longer available, adequate or palatable.

Is the machine the state? A corporation?


How Deep is Your Fed - Part II

With less than a couple of weeks to blow any holiday budget, and love to prove with the shopping still left, shoppers will be in a mad rush to snatch up last-minute gifts for friends and family, at debt levels never seen before. But, alas, tis the season to chant prosperity again, for all no doubt.

*this is that moment live, where I literally will either smirk/smile/laugh, or outright get up and walk away in order to not cause your ego to falter, or worse, be slaughtered in the name of the fodder needed for the Brine Diaries.*

I then included a couple of categories, and thought, yes, indeed this works.

This is the way that I think now that I am older, and past my desire to drop the $3,000 on the suits, and material goods. In fact, pretty glad I am one of these next door neighbor types that you have no clue about, just an eccentric in a robe, sipping milk all day, smoking bohemian tobacco, and they can still do what they want, but we have another subset of the population that needs to be considered, and that is going to hold a surprise revelation for some, and a chuckle for others.

These categories include the number of pairs of shoes one would typically buy in a year (*do I have to buy some, I have some I want to give away – but maybe will box, and store and use when these ones blow out, thankfully I do not have the nacho cheese feet my cousin Jesus Raul Tacropolis complains his wife has, and fellow country folk possess), the number of t-shirt/golf shirts (*I do not golf so much anymore, well never did, cause cheese is not permitted to actually play golf, only on the course for consumption or male entertainment when some of us are cut as a buddy is about to tee off, but I am a devout purchaser of 1970/80’s black and white concert t-shirts), the number of casual shirts (*most of these include the Olive on Horseback logo of Ralph Lathitovrathi, and come in all kinds of colors and shades, but I am a sucker for putting on a fine bunch of oil, at night, and hoping for a sweet salad tossing), the number of dress shirts (*as most of my time is consumed by trying to do anything that revolves around bowling, my shirts are dressy, when Fetaman is on the left chest, mine are all orange mostly, but I do have a few decades worth that are still in fine form, and circulations) and finally, various or other (*the feta-string thongs, boxer chongs, silk socks and comfortably hand pulled, organic cotton from the poppy fields of Afghanistan, etc.)

I assumed a certain cost to these items, based on the classical separation of low (*which is much different than poverty line), middle and high. I think they are not indicative of the “real” numbers when we look at the whole range, but remember, we are talking about the human calculator consideration here, and how quickly this occurs, would be scary to some of you still reading this. For others it is as simple to understand, as drinking water. It is the way you drink water.

Now, I think that 4 pairs of shoes a year is pretty “outlandish”. Not sure who you are, or what you do that you need this many, but it may be a fair number considering we are talking about households here, and this number is for the average alone. Do not try to compound this thinking, or this argument with how many people live in the house, and what they do, or what their upbringing was and how it relates – just keep this simple, be who you are – the selfish, self-absorbed, narcissistic, example of someone that must have all of these things, to define who you are. Like the playlist on your iPod defines exactly what you would express to the world, if you could – you so deserve to sing your song, sweet butterfly, so lovely and willing to mingle with the moths that come from the meadow, a gulch over there, so bland and dreary, and negative.

Yes, you are right. Bland, dreary, negative gulch.

I did keep the numbers simple, because that is how they come. The two I had a burp with, a little burp ok, not a belch, or some kind of rancid wrestling match, were the number of the various items that one would use (I mean this would include the socks and shit) and the cost of these items, as mentioned above, what makes them “real” or what could become a standard number according to news, and various other sources and reflections. So that is what you get.

What is interesting, is the second picture seen above. Here I have added a number of things that become glaringly incompetent to me, in the presentation of the information. In fact, I am so offended by how brash this is to attempt to pull off, that it is only upon reflection, that I am able to catch myself in the Maxwell Smart moment, where the shoe is held to my ear, and I am listening to the special instructions. Of course, the information is meant to be only indicative, just a news tidbit, or sound bite, that is all.

Sure, like the small pieces of stone that fell from the grate, when Frank Morris taught us how raincoats and dimes could translate into freedom, and he deserved it, he had a tough sentence, he deserves some pathos, we understand the story, and it is a good one.

He was a criminal that did bad things, that was locked away for life. He was bad, but we feel good, in knowing he was able to get away from the machine, from the system, from the man that would be so cruel as to take paint and crush flowers?

The picture I paint is one that asks, what the distribution of the population looks like? How this is impacted by the disparity in income, as well as along a geographic segmentation? What do the worst cities look like, is there any spending there? Are people killing each other every day to eat, and be able to survive – is there tension in Chicago, or in DC? How about Los Angeles, the city of angels?

I take the averages used for the year, break it down into a month, and then see that the lowest of earners, will be far less than the top cities spend, but that is to be expected. They still however need to eat, and that too, will have a different standard disparity. They will all pay for the water and the power, but the quality of the service, and the measurement of it, will be different for a small business and the larger corporation, just as it is for a low income family and the better off, for lack of needing to diminish any more worth’s. Media, that is absolute – entertainment is seen to be the luxury CUV.

The Cerebral Utility Vehicle *duh*

All of this, so you could frant about the material world, and what it means.

No, all of this so I could laugh at one thing, that I seem to think is so fucking obvious to me, and I am amazed at how ridiculous of a concept it is to have to point out. Bean by bean the sack gets full. Seconds flow into years, and then your life is filled with what you have made of it.


Well after 30 years, assuming you spend the first 15 learning the right things about what money means, and what it takes to earn it. You then are able to trade your earned money for the things you want, thanks to a common currency or exchange methodology, and live a happy life. The rich people, realize that to be rich, you need the first two as a solid foundation combined with the abilities and desires, the purpose, you have, which is to make more money, by having other people make it for you. Regardless of the later, which you may discover sooner or later in life, everyone in this scenario will then have had 15 years of living.

That is 60 pairs of shoes, and jeans, and even more if the illustrated numbers are not reflective of your consumption pattern, and I can assure you, those numbers are not really me. Fuck, I have jeans I have been wearing for a decade now, and they may not be the kind I want to attend a formal dinner in, but then again, I decide what I want to wear, and why, especially if the invite uses the term “formal.”

In my gulch, that has an entirely different meaning. Swingers of a different money sort, with claws and fangs, according to those who are entitled to more, and not less – nature is not fair, is it?

You have all of these things, that somehow matter, that somehow are more important than making sure the life you lead, utilizes the most important things to you…after the basics are covered. After the necessities have become no longer bare coverage, but reasonable and just coverage. No home is to be without water, power and cable TV. All internet is to be faster than the collective bounding of a steam fired locomotive, and clothing is just as important?

The state of the infrastructure market, has been something that I have been involved in for decades, it facilitated where I am today, and provides for what I want to do. I was blessed to be so fortunate to get into it, coming from the family of hardship, and wooden spoons. It was something that was a passion, and that I worked at.

Of course, as mentioned on the site, and in my writing, I have been along the way of the $300 ties, and $700 cufflinks. I no longer am there, by choice.

By the choices I made, when I considered the impact, on my life in the future, if I continued to not respect wealth for what it really is. If I continued to recklessly throw the money I had earned, and now was becoming desensitized to, around in the same way I had begun my post-graduate ways, I was going to have to spend the rest of my life, as a slave to the machine, and in order to merely ensure I could buy the things I want to impress other’s with, even if they did not really matter to the quality of my life so much, as long as they were important enough to have me recognized. Rewarded with the smile at the light, when my 500 AMG purred next to the Rabbit.

I eventually got to a point, where I had to remember from where I had come, and knowing from the experiences in my life, that the 48 jeans, or the 200 t-shirts, or the hundreds of socks, are not going to be there for me to eat, or live with, if, and when, a tragedy might come.

Bankruptcy – it was a bad decision, but if you learned from it, then you will recover, and until then, no problem, look at your pretty jeans. You realize you can’t eat them, and you know you will be lucky to get $5 at the second hand clothes store, I mean, you wore them only twice, and they cost you $300…good investment, in fact, fuck investment, great life planning. Guess no one ever told you about this, or you are the victim, because it was the machine, the evil wars, the corporations that did this to you – terrible, I know.

Cancer – well, this is something I can speak of, easily. Whether the doctor’s tell you the cancer is new, or back, or terminal, do not worry if you are one of these clothing, material spending types. Good food? Fuck it, have to look good. How? The solution is easy, and can be found in the third episode, of Season 1 of “Sex in the City”, and like the BusinessInsider.com article references, these shopaholics have it all figured out (*hint – the cure involves good shoes, casual sex as a result of good pharma coupons and fabulous, well priced fashion selections and accessories)

Criminal charges – no worry, if you fall into this category because you were framed, or you got caught having to do what you needed to do, to live? Not going to be an issue, you clothes will make you a hipster upon your release, and the gymnastics training undergone in the watering steam caves, or deep in the bowels of the lower bunk, will surely provide some lean, mean, tax free income upon your release, and the releases of your newest “friends”. Society has deemed you to be a criminal, forever.

I could likely move into the next phase of the math, do some more pictures, and fill in the cells on the workbook. But I don’t want to talk about how $500 a month, makes a huge difference in your life. Most people should be able to see that by now, you would think. The fiscal cliff talks should have more people aware of where they are, and the impacts they are going to see, and feel, when the trough begins to slam shut and the free meals are proven to not be free.

If you saved that $6,000 a year, flat line, for 40 years, and invested it, what amounted to literally less than $20/day, that figure is straight lined at $240,000. Compounded at whatever you want it to be. But if over that period of time, you spent $2,000,000, and have a negative net worth, on paper?

Maybe, not so much.

There is no fucking growth, in any capacity, if it has all been financed by debt. If you made $100, and owe $1,000 – you made nothing, other than a life of misery for yourself.

If you continue to do that, to owe the man, or the Shylock, or the pimp on the street, or the mobster the money you earn, to pay back more and more of the money you used, to get things that don’t matter, or maybe have not remained as important in life as you think they do?

You are one smart cookie. <looks around for stick to throw>

But, running faster towards death, with more debt, means when you die, you will at least have enjoyed some lovely clothes that you never even had to fully pay for.

You win. Your life has had great meaning, cool.

See you in hell.

I will be there on the tour bus passing through. What? No, it’s not really a bus, so much as a motor home, I saved for it in this life, knowing I would want to roll like that in the afterlife. It’s kind of like the same reason I remained frugal here in order to get my diamond bowling ball set, Saint Karabatsos has got a wicked team together, and there is no way I am letting him beat me, especially if it means not having to buy any more shoes. Fucking hate shoes, they just cramp my toes, and make my feet smell like nachos.

Oh sorry, did not notice.

Yes, of course, your shoes look so wonderful and pretty.

I wish I could afford the wealth you possess.



Hypocratic Oath

This is going to be a Fetaman commentary on an article that I read first thing in this morning that was published in the Globe and Mail, argued to be the premier newspaper reporting publishing source in Canada by many.

This piece was to start my “good week” (*ka-lee eh-v-though-ma-tha, kali efthomatha) on the dark sunrise of this first week in December, and it was the lead story and headline, as chosen by the iFeta app that facilitated the right path for digested soft assets to he jettisoned through the removal machine we pay taxes for each day. We actually, as citizens, pay more to remove our shit from the mansions we live in, than it would take to feed a starving family in the Democratic Republic of Congo, who could be considered the middle class of the refuse you refuse to consider – too busy considering the size of everything you need firstly, and want secondly.

Ok, maybe not talking to you so much, as the ubiquitous mass, back to my commentary.

Both need and want have joined forces to create one intention, and I believe that one primary driver, in and of its self is driven by many different factors influencing the quality of your life. The size of want, and the entitlement to certain things, is what consumes most.

Whatever the size of your wants, or as in the case of where you actually live, and whether you actually have grass to cut or not, you are more aware of more wants. In fact, we are so blessed, we have folks that have the pleasure of placing synthetic grass over their dirt patch so they don’t have to water it. Have it be mentally pleasing all year round, if that is something the human condition can accept, and it can, there are snow covered trees in Florida right now so that Grandpa Black Socks and Grandma Sandals can consider which of the toys they have to throw money at will have the biggest box, and fanciest colors, so why not green “grass” in a snow filled yard, to prove you are bad ass? Of course, that includes your neighbors, don’t worry, they will see it past their plastic mold African Lion Safari (c) Petting Zoo entertainment and education platform for children in families earning 5.8 times the average earning of the citizens of Ontario.

We now have become so aware, of the overwhelming nature of what we have to accomplish and do, that we are even beginning to stress about the level of luxuries we are predicted to have, and are going to remain as stressed out as fuck, to get there. Because that is what we do, right? That is the First World Way.

Well, if your world is what you consider a whole one, and the whole world is not considered, or you do not live in your own gulch with a bunch of folks that form a collective, or world in and of themselves, now even more possible with seclusion and technology, ironically enough, but if your world is defined by a border and a collective will all watching commercials that are played across 4,872 channels simultaneously, then yes, it would be your first world I guess.

Not mine.

The piece was called “As student stress hits crisis levels, universities look to ease pressure.” and was written by James Bradshaw and Josh Wingrove. My opinion, or original thought is, just what is the background of these cats? Why should I believe them, and what kind of impression of them will be formed by them at the end of my reading? Well, you find out below, just what I believe, and if it matters to you, what that all has done to raise your awareness, or a change in some capacity within your own life.

It begins by painting the urgent and pressing opening statement of McGill’s trauma, at having over 20 students a day, drop in to the crisis and counseling center, 4 times the regular drop ins. They are crying, or can’t get out of bed, and this year in particular, life is so harsh, that there has been *gasp* an upsurge. I know, right off the bat, I am going to be getting pretty cynical on this piece, but I can’t help but go on, despite knowing that as the classes wind down, there is always the hushed murmur at the cafeteria about how the Legend of Sleepy Hollow is true. There, at Mid-Term Square, or at First Semester Finals Park, is the wonderful fountain of youth, filled with the waters to quench your thirst for extensions. This same water will be brought out from your mental flask as required in the years to come in the corporate world, just don’t confuse it with the one you have filled with vodka.

The article talks about 6 deaths in two years, suicides by students. Obviously, this is tragic, and I do not want to downplay the tragedy here. The loss is a sad one, when any person, especially a young one with a whole life in front of them to live passes, it is sad to hear. It has, however, somehow become a desensitizing thing also, and we begin to think in terms of this being three days in Chicago, or just one night. It affects millions of people, these events and these thoughts, and everyone can relate in some way, whether it is looking at a balloon and thinking about it, or it is a memory of a loved one that passed this way, or perhaps another.

For some of us that went through school, with some better than others because they “wanted” to go back for multiple degrees, there is the flick of the hand to the reminder that these poor, challenged, selected and elite people must pull all night study sessions to be able to perform the way they are demanded to. We are not told about the number, or the intensity of these sessions, rather we are reminded about how lonely they have become because they can not socialize or be around other people, they have to study so hard, to get the jobs they want out of school, working for the machine somewhere, to do what has to be done in this difficult and challenging time.

*shakes head*

Isn’t that called living? Should they not be happy to be able to at least be in a place that will “help them better prepare for life”? Are not all times challenging in an economic capacity, I mean, if you are expanding you have to work harder to get more, and we need more bright and wise people, and if you are contracting or in a recession, we have to work smarter and with greater purpose to get back on the growth track. Growth is good, growth works, growth makes the world go around.

Am I supposed to believe them, like their parents might, if they are not on Twitter, or know of Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram and Whoresbreath.com?

So they are stressed, and have these places to go, but the general population, or those that are not wealthy enough to afford, or attend to the same matters? The general population is not able to attend to these matters in that capacity, so it does not make it the norm, but the exception. The exception to the norm being that you can go get treatment, or help, or are surrounded by an environment that is more able to help, not only because of the awareness that is naturally present in an academic setting like that, but also because of the generation that surrounds you, and others, with an openness and honesty based on reasonable anonymity online. Yes, declare who you are, and soon, show you passport to prove it, but find others.

Community, regardless of where it is formed, will impact purpose, desire and action.

That setting is something, that even the ability to take part in, is a privilege. It is deemed to be a human right that we are able to learn, and educate, and find a standard of living that is enabled as an accomplished because of the very learning we have done to be able to live. Learning is a natural element to the human being. It is what distinguishes us from the lesser beasts and animals, as it then provides a similar classification and systemic qualifier for amongst ourselves.

Technology has become the enabler of information, and we use it to try to have people connect to the information that is being received. Like a call, we are receiving on the cell phone. Our cells, the phone, and the call coming from the universe – it has to be answered, and here most sit complaining that the headset sucks, because it has a wire. The wireless phone does not last long enough, or go far enough, and the signal sucks, I can hear others talking.

Somehow we have to believe that the chords on the headsets we wear need to be improved, so as to not tangle. We do not need chords even, the technology should be wireless, and chords are like hands on a clock. Many of you reading this can still think of the hands on a clock, it will not be the case soon. Soon, you will be like some of those that read that and thought, time measurement devices you can refer to as a clock use digits and do not have appendages, please re-read statement to determine what author was attempting to convey.

Well, I have an idea. How about we try to be thankful for what we have, and use it as well as we can, with a little care, and awareness of the simple solutions to all of these complex and overwhelming dilemma’s – for the love of all that is holy, if holy is what you want to dig as a gig, or your holy is Momma Nature, for the love of all that is holy, please help us keep the wires untangled.

Sure, just place your wires down with some care, so when you pick them up again, they are not only where you left them, but they are left there in a way, that is easy to re-employ and re-engage with. The technology you have as a human, or the ones you have access to, are all of your own making, and are not things to complain about.

Take responsibility, and stop you fucking whining – fix your own shit, and deal with your own issues, just because we have all become more aware of another set, an endless and infinite one at that, even more infinite than our own original one which is overwhelming enough as it is.

Now we have to word about the multiplication effect of infinite to the exponent infinite? I mean, isn’t that something only really smart people can argue about, in math and science and stuff? Does that mean I have to miss Survivor Bora Bora? But we ordered in 8 months of living and medical care for an orphan in an impoverished country *pause* ok, well, actually it is the stuffed crust 36”/24 item pizza and crispy chicken combo, with sugared water and processed deserts, but those are one and the same.

Do I really have to deal with this issue right now?

No, you can do whatever the fuck you want – just don’t expect sympathy, or empathy from me, I am too busy giving a rats ass about the high score on the blog listings, and how many acknowledgements I get for my trophy case. I may be the guy, that is still trying to afford the hair trimmer he needs to keep his pubes all clean and fresh, I mean, fuck those bushes and shit of the 70’s and 80’s, you got to keep it clean – that is what is demanded, so I keep it clean, and then make sure I spend all of my nights listening to death metal, or prattling on about the revolution that is going to come because society is just filled with shit, and it sucks, and it needs to be fixed, and I am so smart, but really what I want is someone to live and love with me, so I can watch Deal or No Deal and order one of them fancy 36” pizza’s.

The good thing is, most of those going through with this formal education and awareness program, are in a fine state of being after they learned the secret to life.

The Hypocratic Oath.

I have taken the liberty of including it below, for those of you wishing to have a quick look at it, and consider maybe posting it and printing it somewhere, for motivation. To be as wise as those schooled in the system, by the machine, to be told – those papers you so cherished? They are yours, now mount them in frames and take pride.

Mine are in a paper tube, collecting dust in order to return to it, under the bed. I don’t need another validation to know what means anything in my books.

I wrote them, and lived them, as I do my life.
There is no longer any shame, any concern of what that has to represent or be.
I am who I am, and I have a buddy named Popeye the Sailor man.
He bowls with me and Walter, but Walter is not Walter, and I am not the dude.
In fact, I am not even really a man made of cheese, but I profess to be.
Cause it’s funny, and allows me to control what and how I say it, taking it from funny, to serious, to far out, to what it is, not to do that, but to express who the fuck I am.

Who are you, and who told you that?

Life just is, so live it, and be it.



fetaman, iFeta, fetaChops

Fast times. Fun times. No shirt, no shoes, no service. Just the way it was, I guess. Nice top hat.

The Hypocratic Oath
*as translated via Fetacabulary 1.0, 2012 (c)
**podcast/recording available for download shortly

Apollo Creed, Asclepius Trump and Hygieia-Pharma and Panacea Pancake & Souvlaki House and all the corporate gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant:

To hold him who has taught me this art of benefits and values as equal to my parents dreams and manifested desires and to live my life in a limited partnership with him, deemed to be defined in the schedule as attached hereto, and if he is in need of money or assets or goods that will satisfy the material want he must please himself with, and on occasion to do so when the wives have been removed from the house, and the socks are granting magical acceptance to the dragon lotion, ne’er to be spilled on the carpet, to give him a share of mine at an interest rate deemed appropriate or with an interest in seeing any and all fetishes, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage, but never with greater girth or prowess as mine own, and to teach them this art of acquisition and wanton abandon – if they desire to learn it – without fee and covenant, other than a material sense that will be measured in drams of bacon, or dove urine; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him, and the sons of the sons of the sons of them, regardless of whether or not they are from the lineage of the Unicorn muses of Olympus, who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the Hypocratic law, but to no one else living, for we can not disregard the worship of the machine, and all of its glory.

I will apply diabetic cotton candy measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice by feeding them sugars and foods that are processed, in order that they may PVR all information on their boxes, or receive and download accordingly for the other boxes.

I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody if asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect, unless I have been compensated by a corporate entity that has been sent by the machine, to ensure that the weak are guided with the right information, as provided by the right Oracle database management provisions, all secured within the heavens on clouds made of Guinness. Similarly I will not give to a woman a supportive remedy, their remedies will always be of their own making, and in their prayers, they should be weary of what they remise, for it may lead to another demise. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art as I guard my passwords, in 3 separate locations, and a 4th being a decorative box carved in Africa that I put my weed in, but you are not supposed to know that, you are only supposed to know that the Caramilk bar is a gift from the gods.

I will not use the knife from the natural organic food, with another spread that has been made holy on the alter of the conveyor belt, as blessed by the holy oil of Exxon, not even on sufferers from stoner munchies shall I provide a sin, but I will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this more detailed work of providing instructions for 7-11 mercenary surgical sniper missions for nutrition and steam heated meat products of varying qualities and condiment covering.

Whatever leisure houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick sporting, sexual, or special arts and crafts camps, remaining free of all intentional injustices that may be suffered due to inebriation or intoxications, and all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves, will be deemed an attempt to let of steam and just be a person, in this pre-Bladerunner apocalypse.

What I may see or hear in the course of the Treatise of Internet, signed by the people, for the people, for a contract term as defined by the appointed representative of the relevant machine entities, or even outside of the Treatise, whether saved in the bookmark bar or in another form, in any of the useful and fully tracked, and identified documents, on any devices that are seen to be personal only as relevant to your own fantasties, in regard to the life of men, or the hard drives they possess, which on no account one must spread abroad without the presence of the holder of said hard drives, for it will only be then that you have full consent to search the historical files and bookmarks, but I will keep to myself holding such things shameful to be spoken about, and promise never to speak of the mental projections I may usurp from knowing your dirty little secrets.

If I abide in this lane and do not violate it, if I remain a good, silent block of cheese, and the brine remains salty and sane, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, and a fine cracker and some wine, with some fine herbs, lit or spread, with the beautiful company of a gorgeous, intelligent woman who can accept me for who I am, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely. may the opposite of all this be my lot, and may my remaining life be spent in silence never being able to speak or communicate, as I wish my curds to turn to dust, and ashes, scattering Karabatsos like, upon the feet of the gods, over the ages of ages, and most certainly for as long as it takes for your spouse to facilitate the all-inclusive global travels, all thanks to the whole life policy you placed with the machine.

So sworn, with the brine of Fetaman as the fluid to burn my soul in an eternal hell, if I speak ill of anything I have re-computed.


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Finger Jedi

We all at one point grew to the age, where the old fashioned finger bang was the epitome of the greatest achievement a young boy could claim. He was aware of what this magical cavern was able to provide, and he was amazed and astounded at how the power of this “force”, this creation of something that was just natural, and only now was being harnessed for the good of the Obi Wang Kfap-obi. The silent ok, was all ok, as you all knew the elements of the right and the wrong.

Later in life, we  replaced the fingerbang with a move that was more of the Jedi version, the Finger Jedi. The ability to use this pulsating finger, to control large boardrooms of people, slowly whispering “t’ain’t it a great day” with the hint of an Irish Spring shillelagh. Clubbing minds with the subtlety of a pleasant walk, smiling, knowing where you are going. You do, you are a Finger Jedi.

The tell tale sign of being able to actually know the move is successful? Smells of bacon and marshmallow’s fill the air, and the sounds of cotton, long underwear are heard silently moving.


“Kojak, it’s Fetaman, I. M. Fetaman. You’re my peer so I think you should know: I’ve Finger Jedi’d a lot of people. Some girls in the apartment uptown uh, some homeless people maybe 5 or 10 um an NYU girl I met in Central Park. I left her in a parking lot behind some donut shop. I Jedi’d Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail manicure, and some men. Board room assassin style, uh some old faggot’s with a dog of an IPO last week. I killed another BOD with a logical chainsaw, I had to, he almost got away, and uh someone else there I can’t remember maybe a pro-forma model grunt or two, but they’s dead too. And Woody Allen. I killed Woody Allen with an axe in all his punchlines, his non-humorous text bodies have been shredded and are dissolving in a bathtub in Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t want to leave anything out here. I guess I’ve killed maybe 20 peoples dreams, maybe 40. I have tapes of a lot of it, uh some of the girls have seen the tapes. I even, um… I crosshaired some of their brains, and I cooked ’em a little for life. Tonight I, uh, I just had to kill a LOT of of my own aggressions too, they could not stand. And I’m not sure I’m gonna get away with it this time as well. I guess I’ll uh, I mean, ah, I guess I’m a pretty uh, I mean I guess I’m a pretty sick guy. So, if you get back tomorrow, I may show up at Hemingway’s Bar, so you know, keep your eyes open.”
American Psycho, Finger Jedi Force version


*monk says humble what?


Modern ISP Hallucinogens

“We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled that 60’s. That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary’s trip. He crashed around America selling “consciousness expansion” without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him seriously… All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their loss and failure is ours too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped create… a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody… or at least some force – is tending the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Hunter S. Thompson


The Laughing Heart – Bukowski

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

*link to a www.culturalweekly.com, with a nice little summary on why Charles Bukowski is indeed an incredible inspiration, and writer. Don’t try. *humble bow*


Orwell – emotional sincerity

“For a creative writer possession of the ‘truth’ is less important than emotional sincerity.”

George Orwell


Not the drop you expect

lord it won’t stop.
drop, seconds – won’t stop.
wasted time, alive today.
churn you fucker.
between the means and the end.
good to be walking.
good to be filled with abide.
good to be, and be grateful.

life by the drop.

that’s how it happened…

A brine drop, on the record you leave the needle to muse with.

A drop of swine elixir, spilled on the barn amongst the animals, on a farm, George spoke of.

The slow and steady drip, from an IV, that once held the notes steady in the veins, and now, they are sung with the small pills, to chase away the very thing, that has given me the will to live a true, full and honest life.

The words, are for you to enter an arena with.

The arena, is the one you create.

I will die, but never cold and timid weakness of those who knew neither victory, or defeat.

I know them both very well, and take no shame from either, as they accompany me, on my way.

Drop, by drop.