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

By

Is it your league game?

There was an email blast from Tilray that was recently shared in a private capacity in a trusted community that has my attention. The medical marijuana community in fact. Tilray (*click for link) is an LP here in Canada, that included the likes of a Master Kush in their grow. An LP, is a Licensed Producer, and you can no doubt find more than enough information about the current situation in Canada. In this case, a newly appointed, and previously tenured group, joined forces and Tilray became the shining example of ‘functional’ systems. They also had a strain named Master Kush which was an “incredible 29%”, and that absolutely sold out in less than a few hours. This strain was reported to be 29%, and that can be a reasonable assumption given the ability for Tilray to test, and the fact that yes, they have been to date Canadian; but moving forward into 2015 you can be assured Privateer Holdings, and the rich-tech billionaires now looking to provide fruit bowls of chronic weed at their yacht parties that is truly ‘owned’ by them, shit will be different. I may stand tall beside some of the finest people I have had the pleasure of knowing in the organization, and can only hope their namesake is as royal as the intentions of the family which may have provided some more appropriate guidance for such an early leader. Careful, say the Greeks. Those that come early, are first to be wiped clean in the rolling histories of political correctness and likes. May not.

The fact that the majority of Tilray “gardens” are still to be sanctioned, approved, and placed into production means that at the very least, patients are looking at Tilray producing real volumes in 18-24 months, and the market is using an abacus to count the days knowing each one is a head start on the hundreds, soon to be thousands of applicants, in Canada alone. Until then, the collective they will spend the first 6 months pacing and watching, the next 6 months collectively tweaking and then maybe have some quality medicine rolled out a couple of times in the following six. That may be 12 months, and bink – hello 2017! What will NYSE or NASDAQ be doing then?

Thank you America, let’s rip up some hoser holes eh?

$14/g for the weed; for the evil grass of the past, that now, being medicinal and driven by the same invisible hands of Adam Smith’s theorists, ghosts and ongoing economic lamentations, is very much a great deal? The “prohibition bomb” cleared out the vaults, and now, the gunslingers be pulling ammo outta’assholes.

Shipping is included (*wink*), but you have to pay tax on the whole kit, and so let’s just say your daily “5 grams” (*pukes, and then tries to laugh through the dripping, drooling saliva and chunks of vomit, tries to utter words but then pukes again – fucking moraines, fields of fuqtarded by choice idiots), sorry daily just had me chuckle, is now $15.82/gram, or daily $79.10.

Incredible eh? That is the entire income for some workers in an entire shift/day…how about the sick?

Most people on disability, fighting for their lives, and truly needing help to fight the hell that is raging in their bodies, some days not even wanting to fight any longer, can not even afford to pay that in a WEEK for their food, and some, over the course of a MONTH may have that much to spend on food.

Mother of God – please let my virgin hatred right now for the machine, the wealthy pricks and diseased fuqranauts that still flaunt the arrogance of a moon landing, energy crises, terrorism thwarting a chained ‘freedom’ and even the fact that currencies can be raped and pillaged while sharing the same ink stained pages of newsprint for the heathens that do not have the interwebz…please let that just let me get back to wondering…

Over the course of a single month, this represents a tab of $2,373 for 5 ounces. 30 days. That is cash, not financed, or pre-tax. After tax, no bullshit; two thousand, three hundred, seventy-three dollars and no pennies, they are not even rounding pegs for nickels much longer.

The average income for an Ontario citizen ranges from a low of a few hundred dollars a week, to a couple of thousand a week. In this link (*http://www.statcan.gc.ca/tables-tableaux/sum-som/l01/cst01/labor93g-eng.htm) you can see, that my small summary chart helps get an appreciation for the “scope” of this cost, and how the cost that can be absorbed by a sector of the employed categories is made up of the very professions society would deem not requiring any reefer substance or good which may, or may not, produce madness.

Like Bob Marley’s name being used to promote a brand of “real ganja”; shit has gotten beyond real. We have a wet behind the ears opponent, to an asshole of huge proportions thinking he can keep the west on the trail as the rest of us wait by the rest stop. Fuck, is that the Reform party boosting the Conservative party Winnebago’s? Preston smoking some of Harper’s cone? Honk on bo-bo?

*pukes*

Category Weekly Avg – Gross Monthly Avg – Gross After tax – Net 65 Monthly MK (*5g/day) % of Avg/Month*N65

Available

Utilities 1,959.40 $7,837 $5,094 $2,373 47% $2,721
Mining, quarrying, and oil and gas extraction 1,874.77 $7,499 $4,874 $2,373 49% $2,501
Professional, scientific and technical services 1,290.57 $5,162 $3,355 $2,373 71% $982
Administrative and support, waste management and remediation services 696.17 $2,784 $1,810 $2,373 131% ($563)
Arts, entertainment and recreation 595.65 $2,382 $1,548 $2,373 153% ($825)
Accommodation and food services 361.34 $1,445 $939 $2,373 252% ($1,434)

*Categrory descriptions, they are cut and paste from the very government site(s) you can look at. These are Ontario numbers. Never let it be said The Machine did not advise the wise, lies or eyes, as it’s all just bound for demised sighs.

**No I did not forget the dollar sign in the column, it is that way to illustrate how it appears “odd” when so desensitized to the dollar sign, that magic marker of value to all those that think it matters.

 

What is very interesting is the order with which the whole chart above, pulls out a fascinating fact. Management of companies and enterprises has an average, October/2014 weekly income of $1,256.64. Again, this is per a 2014-12-12 edited, CANSIM 281-0063, Statistics Canada table. Live and direct from the Machine. This category is important, as it is just behind “professionals”, who interestingly enough lag the utility and energy ‘grunts’; and is then followed by, pardon me if I may sound fucked on this one, but followed by the glorious society improving Public Administrators. This hallowed group of Einstein’s offspring, direct heirs to his intelligence in urban planning, justice and street vendor/garage sale permit masters of the Parking Ticket Realm, shall be paid $1,244.06.

This is incredible.

Bureaucrats, somehow, that is all I can think. Please, do not think I shall harp on the arguements of the Table Masters that speak of police, and fire and all those people also fall into this category. Well, then let us make another category Table Masters. Let us be clear, and then we can see.

Do you really think, that even those people above, are in a position to devote 50% of their income, to pay for just THIS ONE SINGLE TYPE of medication?

How about those at the bottom of the chart? Do they not deserve access to the same medication, the same quality and standards? Will the government health programs not be covering these expenses? Surely, then there shall be no issue if I am audited, and hold my pockets empty and truly speak the words of poverty, for there is nothing left. Usurp my land, my money and my time, but never my dignity.

What the fuck?

How many times, and in how many forms are we paying taxes? Where is there any relief from having to pay someone for the air I breathe, the water I seek and the ability to try to provide for my own standard of a life? How the fuck did we get here? Letting the water fall, into the blue again…once in a lifetime, same as it ever was…

You want to talk about the power of compounding numbers? The fact the government can now control so much more of the “supply” by cutting back the permits, and the financial environment can kill the last hopes and dreams of any producer, even now, knowing the death toll is in the fact that one can not rush time or nature. The old supplies are dead, and in order to catch up, there will be pain, fasting and more droughts.

Parched lips can barely stand the sight of water, let alone hold the resolve to know the day may never come to taste of Gaia again.
Find the magic, and then hold it.
Preserve it in a jar, and pay the price to the Table Masters.
Canada has the West to thank for oil and bud.
They deserve all the monies and the base, bel0ngz 2dem.

You wonder why the rich get richer, and the poor still swim in the urine of the dogs the rich have to ensure the streets are filled with urine and feces, so the poor can swim in that and never bother with the rich…do you?

Cause the collective we is a bunch of monkeys trying to type Shakespeare, in every language, using only their belly buttons, and while doing so, trying to fit a Eureka vacuum into the oven door opening. This may seem off enough, but it is nothing next to the North Korean men dressed in Colonel Sanders outfits painting the walls with some SPAMcrylic latex that is sure to pacify.

Cause all the people that are sitting back right now, and able to ‘provide’ for themselves are doing so with hook, nook, book and a good look over the shoulder very frequently, hoping that parent does not die, or the party is over. No one is going to care then, and when you can not afford to even pay for your food, let alone get your critical medicine, what will happen to the parody magazines in France, and the cultures that think painting a cartoon makes it less offensive to place religious figures at the end of bad jokes, or rancid humor? Maybe there is more to the commentary than meets the eye…that kind of cause?

What about the cuzz, as in cuzz’in you best be fuckn’ witch me in the following table; the one below that was snapped from the workbook and is my own intellectual property. Welcome to noodle the numbers, they are all within range, and they all speak to the power of compounding rice.

The challenge is making sure you are on the right side of the compounding, and you have a place to ensure you speak no, hear no, and see no knievel.

So, we will start along the path of the Status Quo.

A friendly path they say, just make sure to not stray outside of the mortgage constraints of the walk on the side. This is similar to a walk on part in a war, lead role in a cage according to Floyd. This is the land of candy mountain, and sugary treats. Where Charlie is a unicorn, with a home that consumes 30% of his cash, if not 45%+, but we will be cool and believe Charlie can keep his shit together. There is some food, about 25%, and then some clothing and missinlanesforus stuffs for maybe another 25%. Seems pretty clean.

So the “real” disposable income for “health” or the Reefer Madness prescription is the remaining 20%. Assuming there is anything left that can be spent there. If not, you have to choose.

Food, or medicine; a choice any god, being, spirit or belief would call on a normal person to choose. Fuck the habitat or shelter, food follows water, then joy. We can live in the wild honey, just you and I. Love will feed us, it will keep us healthy.

All of this, while a half a billion dollar valuation is supported by another $75,000,000 of Series B capital from the same Thiel’s fund, a Founders Fund no less. According to the same sources referenced above, and to use the same numbers and projections accordingly, please note:

“Privateer is already generating meaningful revenue, although the company is not profitable. In 2014 it expects to generate nearly $11 million in net revenue, up from $1.2 million in 2013. Most of that revenue (60% to 70%) is generated by Lafitte Ventures, and the rest is from Leafly. Privateer expects to reach profitability and generate $111 million in 2015 and $440 million in 2016.”

So Charlie, is not blessed enough to pull oil or minerals from the ground, nor market them to those that find power and valuable energies from within, hell, he only wishes he could be a lowly doctor or professional in a category that is so open for manipulation through obscurity. No, Charlie is an accommodation Jedi. Warrior of the traveller’s ways, and with all the ways known to man embedded within his hospitable grasp, he claims to earn the terrible wage published by the Machine. Indeed, his taxable income is slightly higher than the number in the chart, but still less than $1000.

A nice round number it seems, to move forward now with a couple of quick jabs.

Slices, small licks that one would welcome knowing become scars across the brows of the minions fisting onion rings in the name of sexual promiscuity for all lards, greases and lubricants that hide in the shadows of YouTube cookies and pingbacks.

So, you bet.

Charlie has $200 to purchase his medicine, for the whole month.

That is not weekly, that is the whole month. If he can maximize his volume, he may be able to buy as much as 1 oz. Interesting, that to do that, he would have to get the 28 grams at $7. A figure that is thrown around as illustrative of how free people really can vote, and pick cotton, and make railways. Don’t you see?

What is missing, is that it is less than the 5 grams a day that were prescribed to help Charlie function. It seems to be in the same range as the 20% available in the equation used above. It is said, that when the holy fathers gathered in the Vatican, you know, not sexist or color blind whatsoever that group, when all the white holy fathers gathered to seek the divine signals for the next pontiff, they were met along the way with the same divine logic distilled by the pubs of content visited so frequently, songs sung by the piano man in mood for melody. Making things all right.

It does not compute.
It does not work.

The numbers are horrific, and we can simply say, that to survive – Charlie had to start borrowing some money. He had to borrow twice as much as he made every month, just to live at his current standard. That was assuming he would be able to find a place, where he could try to squeak out his interest payment. Sacrifice some milk, avoid the vegetables, eat the odd napkin or bowl of ice cubes as a snack. He no longer had his family, or his siblings. His friends had all left to live more fantastic lives in the alternate reality. Pokes, and likes and pictures of the greatest ass thanks to a genuinely disturbing invention, the Ass-Selfie Extension Stick w/Flash.

People are fucked.

The world is falling apart, and the day to day quality of life has been gutted for profit. Everyone’s a prophet Mohammed, je mais souviens…

Charlie thinks each month, the following month will be better. He remains an optimist, because he can actually recover next month. Something better will happen.

Sorry Charlie, you are about to see why the only good thing that can happen is a fast, steep fall or hollow point by chance and good fortune.

Charlie & Gus 1

You dig?

Charlie & Gus 2

It is all about making the money, funny.

Charlie & Gus 3

I know for a fact, unless you dig the cowboy hat, the ‘stache and…fuck it, may as well now swear so much…

Charlie & Gus 4

So if I smoke for one year, to be well; that means I spend the next 12 years in fiscal Hell? So the amount of time to earn a post-secondary degree will equate to 5 decades of rot? Well, the be about the same numbers The Machine affirmed.

Charlie & Gus 5

Just not real, not a chance of real.

Still.
They wait.

We don’t.

We; just bowl.
This is a league game.
So fuck their rules.

Roll.

*abide*

By

Accordion Alleys.

There is no way anyone is going to be able to understand this without some context, so please allow me to take you on a bit of journey as to how, an incredible accordion had me dancing on a Friday, directly as a result of a path that had not been pre-determined whatsoever, but one that had been effectively caused to spin in an orbit that only folks that have been online can experience. Speaking about it, as the trip that it is – another thing entirely.

It really is an odd track, and perhaps some may want to adjust the RPM’s – no regard to the telling, I will merely wander through some reflections and come to a place that has me sitting in front of a regular website that I frequent, salient news information in a way that is digestible and well sourced. There are too many to list and of course failure to miss even one would cause some grief somewhere, so assume it was one that you had on the frequent flyer program, and this little Leer was about to cause some changes to the flight pattern.

A provocative title that mentioned philanthropy and porn had grabbed my attention.

Fuck off, it was amongst all of the regular “business” articles, and it struck me as odd that it had been placed there. It also had a set of the icons illustrating “fire” or how many social network feeds it had been connected to, and despite many of these being forged or not even acted upon (*which, for the record – fuck, the traffic is sick, and what – no one wants to be associated with linking to the site? I must admit, this is rather frustrating, but it will not stop me from doing what I have to do, and how I am going to do that is about what I do, not to whom and for what it is done.) I take them for some kind of measuring stick, not sure why, again, like asking a bunch of dung magicians to discuss quantum physics.

I guess there could be some kind of magical rocket scientist in that group, but I remain skeptical, having seen most of that kind able to pull shit out of a hat, but no rabbit.

It had a feed about porn being ethical, and all people being able to enjoy it or try it out in their own space, and it was a freedom of choice thing. I don’t want to detail it much more than that, as I truly hope you will look at the article as referenced in the original post here.

I was inspired.

Seldom one often to be drawn into the porn discussion realm, but having an interesting range of experiences with it online as of late has caused some dissections. Not of the kind you would normally fancy I am sure, but of the paranormal kind that only an honest and objective look at facts may qualify. I am a purest in that regard, finding that as facts shift or sway in the natural progression that one might argue all humans demand of their formed opinions, so to does my admiration of disdain for the twine qualified roast that is about to be consumed with some gravy and chitlins.

The narration was obscure, and real. Spoken from the man himself, a dedicated champion of a cause that can seem so disjointed in the simple terms of what it boils down to, and the champions of censorship and disgust may scream at the top of their lungs when they look at, but at least they will take action.

Many of you will simply look away.

Doing nothing.

Thinking that no action absolves you from tainted decisions that one side or the other is going to hurl at you, and that is frankly distasteful. You find the thought horrible, and it is compounded by the horrible thought you feel if you begin to associate with “them” or “that” crowd. Such animals, such creatures you think as the Kleenex brand tissue wipes the foul chic of a walking asshole.

Your lack of action is the action, it a voice that clearly states in its absence.

It does not agree.

I am sorry if that cuts to the chase, but it is true.

This is a fact of life, move on.

So fucking what.

You think I wondered if posting would be seen to be an endorsement, or if I would be viewed as some kind of “pervert” who wanted to look at this only to find a glimpse of an ass veiled by some smoke and the imagination? The locations familiar to the mind; one should not admit that for fear of being recognized as a swine, or a filth pig capable of rolling around in that mud.

We all track mud.
It is the combination of water and dirt.
We all walk the miles on this earth.
We all will have mud.
I don’t care what else you want to call it.
It is mud.
Oink, fuck.

It did not take long for the action.

It was swift.
I wrote, it came.
I moved on.

Stated as a guttural fact, respect is a harsh mistress.

I had an exchange that came from another artist, and I try to use this word with the respect from which I in the past had distinct regard for, this is truth. I defined an artist differently, guess I had to as all definitions will change in time and never remain truly static, do they? I had found artistry in a more commercial form, like an archer’s bow and some caviar at a museum or gala. I had appreciated it, as beauty. Today the regard for it as a word is seldom tossed around by me. I have to be discrete, it is a choice sanctioned by my self.

As such, only she will know who she is here.

*smirk*

I was thrilled to see some diversions.

These are the reasons I am here.

These are the reasons that allow me to wander into the stars.

Different stars.

Stars like you.

Shining brightly, hoping to be the focus of a remaining eye at the end of the trail. Along this edge though, not only the snail. The shadow of the fractal mind, looking for some kind of infinite simplicity where the colors and the shouts all melt into a simple cotton garment in the summer sun.

There, in the grass. Fascinating, and pure.

Truthful in the need to simply express, even the most obscure note.

The progression had nothing to do with anything more than a primal need to accomplish the removal of the act. Seemingly blissful and expansive, there had to be more.

Is this not what we ask, when we put it out there – when we find that chance encounter and reach out, at times to have the hand slapped back for fear of finding something to hold on to?

It did not want to be held, it simply wanted to be acknowledged.

The message that came back from the darkness may have been to some shallow and grave, to one who is aware of the cosmos and the beauty of the mysterious;

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead —his eyes are closed. The insight into the mystery of life, coupled though it be with fear, has also given rise to religion. To know what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms—this knowledge, this feeling is at the centre of true religiousness.” – Einstein

Freedom is such a magical thing.

Is this what you really think?

So many different things can go through the mind of one, especially walking down the street. We have become enamel on the lens and dry in the sun. Curation for a nation has a new realm, and it is called dignity. What the nit is really digging for, I am not sure, nor do I care. I am asked to forgive him for his transgressions, as I ask to have my transgressions forgiven by others, so as this day, my daily bread can go to a hand that seeks a way up, with dignity. Do you have it? Then spare the dime, or some time. Life is the accordion, and some have a passion for it. Click the picture, open your mind. Feel life as the stave. They play as a force, these accordions. The wind is channeled through a mind. Yours. Dance, dance for Argentina – but do not cry. It is not foul, is merely the celebration of the decomposition, the structural, fractal analysis of the simple infinity that is composed anarchy. Touch the keys. Enjoy the moment, it may pass, but I remain thankful for it. I shall store it as such, thankful.

Wish it upon all, but know it is not anything you can have anything to do with.

Much like the tact you left at the doormat near the door that asked you to sign in. You had to be identified by the number, or the badge.

There had to be a brand behind that smile, and it had to be whole and clean before you got down and did the hand jive on that polish sir, yes sir.

Which.

Sounds so cunning and arrogant, like a question meant to be replied with the same demand it was brought forth with.

The black cape and the hat, have nothing to do with it.

The volley into a flame for the sake of performance, but to whom – the question of the sensor ship and the sensory evaluation, a form to be filled in and wrapped into a cannoli waiting for the ward to bring judgment on your worth to the machine.

No, it had nothing to do with that, and all to do with the choice.

See, it does make all the difference.

Which, is up to you.

Of course, and the I.

*abide*

By

Handshake UD – NOYB 1.1

The experience continues, and the bottom line?

I am thirsty.

“Asking” for a beer, and a handshake, I would have thought that would have been very easy to do with the offer of leaving an iPod behind for the lucky winner of the back-of-the-napkin raffle. It is a 3rd Generation, 4GB, iPod Shuffle and it is new. and the posts are right below this one. Here is the the shortcut to the original post, in case the “napkin” has some feta or brine juice on it.

It can get pretty spunky, so providing a daily update for those that think this is “twerk” or about making money.

So far, 6 Tweets of my own, that have been RT from me, non from here direct but one single solitary Zippo. Connected the crosshairs with a direct S/O and for that, am always grateful. This “code” is pretty simple, there has been one RT – so, interesting to note the impressions and the hits, but what about extended handshakes?

Trench warfare is not easy, smells like pretzels down here.

Twitter – 17 users, 33 interactions
Twitter Statistics:
Stars (n/a): 24
RT: 9
RT (*beer): 0

“Longevity is created, not spurred.” – Gus

Friends Family: **
RT (*beer): 0*
BG:**
*none of these friends have not RT, or will not be eligible until they do. The likelihood of that is barely registered, they are the support and kinship of another kind. I am most grateful for their generosity, and affirmations of abide in and of themselves. Support comes in many ways, as does wealth.
**NOYB – None of Your Business represents the fictional title of the “free” research piece that will flow from this approximate week, and it is going to include a groundbreaking revelation about the “Buy the Book” principle. It may or may not involve the last series of months of discovery, and will be interesting to get for free, as the trial lift, pre-release of the “Orange Grass Abides” piece, the title of which is different.

Anybody who demands brutal honesty and transparency from me, is to be granted the same opportunity at any given time.

“It is never madness. It is just about deemed reasons justified as an intent.” – Gus

Hotel Abide.

Demand brutal honesty and transparency from another, but be prepared to grant the same to opportunity and its concequences, logical repurcussions or cerebral sutra.

Two spreadsheets and a microphone.

*abide*

By

Sounds of Silence – Gus Covers

*adapted from the Simon and Garfunkel song by the same name. Link here, for enhanced correlation to the adaptation from Gus.

Hello Twitter, my old friend
I’ve come to tweet with you again
As a stalker softly creeping
Left seeds, on me as I was sleeping
And collusion has been planted in my brain
paranoia remains
With the tweets of compliance

In restless timelines walk alone
Narrow blogs of rubble stone
‘Neath the HALO muzzles clamp
Turn caller ID towards the lamp
When the eyes are stabbed by a Nazi’s neon light
That split the sight
E ‘fore I, fucks compliance

And in my naked thigh I saw
Ten thousand tweetstars, maybe more
Assholes talking without speaking
Cats hearing without listening
Comics stealing lines that voices never shared
And still one dared
Disturb the cone of silence

“Fools”, say you, “You do not show
trophies like a cancer that grow
Drink my words that I might breach you
Smoke my joints that try to reach you”
Yet the words, like silent gumdrops fell
And clogged
the walls of flatulence

Tweeter people bowed and prayed
To the neon digits their God made
And the high man flashed out a warning
In the words that smoke was forming
And the sign said, “Balanced profits are not the subway walls
or tenement halls…
their on my hairy balls. Like words of silence.”

*abide*