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

By

The Cost of the Corn on my Cob has Gone up.

Time, more than a magazine. Smart apes, and strainers with transmissions.

Time, more than a magazine. Smart apes, and strainers with transmissions. It was just a photo that spoke of an age when there was a scent of change. It smelled so clean, and wonderful. The programs had told us so, this was how one would wake up and live. This was emancipation from slavery. They believed. Duplicity, delicious in this proLean (c) smoothie. *changes channel, opinion sound, dilates pupils, gulps senses*

I recently had to undergo some review of my health and my diet as of late, as some of the resulting issues post cancer(s) are non-terminal. Sure, they also mean they cannot be considered “life ending” – but that is all about how you define life, and the quality of it. Consider the loss of your vision, devoid of the current “life” you see. Is that a loss of life? A disability? Something you think you can overcome?

I have made that mistake in the past, and realize people (a) have limited intelligence to be able to comprehend context unless it is spelled out to them explicitly, and (b) most are fucking gossip cunts, that have to feed off the bullshit they create, and then spread it so their field can creep what they flow.

Feel free to look around, in fact, please do. Then make sure you inquire or inspire, but light the fire and bask in the glow of whatever flame is before you, hot or cold.

I know one thing, that the cost of “shit” is just fucking unreal when you consider a whole bunch of the most common elements, and somehow people continue to think they are “rich” and “have” more than in the past, and I have to smirk, I really do.

So I made a list, of some of the most common items I remember as a child and then created a table which listed them, my memory of them as a “cost” (*for the soon to be haters, please fuck off if you expect full blown reference back tracks to what the actuals were, fuck. I remember getting 2 dozen corncob in my rural “hood” or thereabouts, and that shit was a buck. If you can’t remember that, or never experienced it, well whatever, make your own table) and what that means per unit.

So, as an example let us consider a corn example. Back in the 70’s, as children travelling to the 8 tracks the old man wanted to turn up, we would stop roadside and get this massive paper bag of them for $1.00. The means, there were 24 cobs/ears (*yes, often more with the quick hands of a slick parent I am sure) or about $0.04/each. There was not marketed “ethanol” back then, unless it involved some kind of fermented inebriant that fuelled a hard days work trying to feed people who really did not appreciate how much more complex food, the politics of it, the inclusion of the “machine policy” within the profit margins and of course, the overall devastating changes that would come to occur with humankind and the world we occupy.

A snap of the Google fingers, and www.usinflationcalculator.com allows us to calculate that over the course of a number of years, backwards or forwards. Nice. Simple, and I do not want to get into the debate of how they calculate that rate, and if they are appropriately illustrating a cumulative rate of inflation or not. If you got the picture about the rate of inflation is not really discussing the type of clouds some may thing of cumulusly or humilisly.

*sip

Simply put, if you look at the cumulative inflation over two periods, there are going to be a variety of factors, but just create your own list like I had referenced above and play with some shit you remembered as a child. You will be fucking amazed. If I had shown you a list, you would not be able to emotionally relate to the findings on your own. If you brain functions in a visual, and empirical manner – the math is just astounding.

But the machine says there is a different math, so I insist.

I bought, 3 ears of corn the other day for $1.99 at an Asian grocery/vegetable store. They are known to have the lowest prices, and perhaps not the best decor and stuff at times, but other times and in season, great options relative to the $3.99 price I would pay at the super premium locations that demand certain auxiliary and complimentary assets allow entrance.

*no comment*

Here is where it gets confusing for most.

If I simply multiply the current cost of the low end, with $2/3 ears of corn, so $8 for a dozen? Or if it is the Uber-Corn, that is $16 for the dozen – right? Or $16/$32 for that same two dozen. So pull off to the side of the road, and now hand that dude a cool $35 bucks, cause you got to make sure the farmer is tipped.

But, no – you have tax now – so please factor that in accordingly in life, but here, let’s just keep it flat for right now.

How does that $16.00 not look anywhere near the same 4:1 ratio that www.usinflationcalculator.com put in for a 1974-2013 spread? When we plugged $1.00 into the calculator, it quickly burped that we would pay $4.72 for the same product, and the cumulative rate of inflation amounted to 371.1%.

Someone pass some more alcohol intelligence to the folks chirping about the use of marijuana, ’cause I can pretty much assure you most of the abiders or the gliders are in the full effect of understanding right about now.

I wonder if it has anything to do with math?

Don’t ask me – cheese can’t do math. Or spell. Or care.

*context smirk* Gus is around, maybe this is Gus. There are going to be a handful of people that read the site, and keep in touch via Twitter, and that believe, that are going to get a sneak peak at an inside tip for the book, likely within this week. Send out an email to me here at the site, or you can T/RT this posting with a #GusAbides tag, and consider that a belief grenade, you know, an abide flare of sorts. *shakes Fetaglobe*

But it seems to me, that $0.04 is what got an ear back then. Now, that same ear can cost as much as $1.33, or thereabouts. Is that how they got 371.7%? Missing something.

*headscratch*

Pretty sure I am not, but play along – it can get even “funner”.

Like remembering a drunk father who made sure to insist that $20 was used to buy his carton of smokes and a 24 of Molson. Yeah, hope they serve beer in hell old man.

I know one thing. When you plug in $20, there is no fucking way that $94.33 is going to cover the cost of a carton of smokes, let alone the case of beer with it. What is interesting is the rate of inflation there, the “slower” crawl that seems to jump out at me.

I mean, over those same years the cost to purchase has not gone as ballistic as food or groceries, but whenever we begin to discuss food, and how families can survive, or the quality of the food they are trying to survive on, some rich asshole comes wandering in and insists anyone can eat well.

All they have to know is what inflation means, and ensure the trust fund is handled by the right accountants, at the right time – right?

After all, intergenerational wealth is just not worth what it used to be.

Unless you still collect the stamps, and not use them, or their new forms.

This message sponsored by some complex origami for most.

For others, it is just another series of folds on the way.

*abide*

By

Echo in the chasm.

So you think you can tell.
Heaven from well, orange grass from pain.
A smile from my veil, a walk on part on my worn out Rimowa.

Well, not until you try, not to have to do it, but because you need to satisfy that urge. Confirm the reality of the situation, and smirk, smile, call it whatever you want to perceive cause you are going to perceive it anyway you want regardless of what I do or so, so be aware I retain that same right.

I am literally walking around this “experiment” as way of complimenting the writing, making sure I have another outlet (*this seems to be questionable, sucking so much energy out of the day to day life at times it is a miracle. I am a-fucking-live, I had an 8 year fight with cancer in various forms, and deal with all the shit of regular folks, plus the racist looks and feta slavery. You think I am kidding, who serves you more in your life, bound to your every wish and desire to coat and top everything that modern mad has come to cover over the caveman? Cheese. Slave to the masters.) and was inspired by a couple of folks I have seen on “that” side I have connected with via timeline.

This timeline has our diversions, the video game take away from life for a quality of what – followers? Zombies that are wanting to press a button, and star a tweet and then move on?

Well, this is my call to action below.

I state the case very clearly, and I am not mincing words in any capacity. Not in the spreadsheets, in the calls, in the notes, in the waves and and the false idols represented by a preceding statement being less than the number 3. Is the number 3 supposed to represent the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost? Is this some kind of sub-tweet for Einstein, mocking him about the use of the number being thrown around like some of the dicks in this place, some glory whole for the unfiltered whore that wants to fuck another with the intent of a value not expressed in the honest and open transaction of the place she sits to gather and show her wares? For the sake of political correctness, and remaining true to my commentary on the social side in whatever happens to be the place on the lane – the man whore is merely another form of the same “honourable” profession, all for tea bags in some capacity.

We judge by the actions being louder than the words, and will be a part of the journey, regardless of what the choice is.

I have all ready won, simply by having my eyes opened.

There is no way, none what so ever, that all of the people that I follow, or who follow me, are going to be able to see the tweets alone, especially in that environment. That is not only understood, but has been re-inforced.

What is interesting is those that have, and to what extent.

I have offered a handshake, and made it clear – I am not here for the invisible ghost masturbation jerk move. I am also not crushing that which needs to be kept whole, there are some things which are just too real and close to others, even myself, that is not mean for the drama played out on the social stage.

You can save that shit for the bots, and the computer trophies.

My trophy is a handshake, and action.

Everything else is fiction, financed by the quarter you put in the pinball machine.

Wizards need not apply.

Ownership is never deemed to be owned by any application a monk makes, other than their own.

*abide*

**note: the iPod giveaway/”handshake” bowling league is going to be extended until Friday, April 26th @ 4:20 pm. I had noted it twice yesterday, and making sure to note it here also for any of the “active” users or reviewers. Also a great way to document the journey, and what is behind this site – and what is being shaped – I am truly blessed to have lived. Would not be the same without you, those of you here, and in fact, just as importantly, those of you that are not.