The Lava Lamps

The Lava Lamps

Last day of 2018 – I did it!

I’ve had a webcam and a Lava Lamp in my office or bedroom since I discovered the original X10 boxes. Some of you may remember X10. For a while, their ads were plastered everywhere. My roommate at the time wrote a small utility to activate the plugs from a web-based click. Those X10 boxes still exist, but they’re cheaply built and the ones I had for the control box all broke.

Rather than buying another cheap X10 box, I wanted to figure out a way to get the Lava Lamps (now in 3 sizes around my room) to work using the new SMART PLUG technology. The ones that work with Google Assistant, Siri, Bixby and Alexa.

It took me over a month to finally figure out how to do it. My first attempt was successful but irritating. I actually had the web links play a small WAV sound file of my voice saying; “OK Google, Turn on the Lava Lamps”. IT worked but every time it played, any time of the day, I jumped out of my seat startled. It scared the poop out of me. It was fun to watch, and so visitors were doing it all the time just to see me jump.

I shut it down. Today, with some helpful suggestions I discovered the joys of IFTTT and figured out how to make it work to trigger my Lava Lamps silently on and off. I’m super happy, and also surprised it was so hard to find. I would have expected this would have been an easy project.

It was super hard to find anything online that used words and terms I was familiar enough to figure out. There didn’t seem to be anyone else talking about it. A web link or button to control a smart device. To me, that seemed like an obvious need.
 
Today, my need was resolved, and I finally got a WEB BUTTON/LINK to turn on my Lava Lamps! Finally. No more crappy breaking X10 boxes for me. I can now control any of my smart devices from the web/Wordpress. Only the Lava Lamps are on the website for now. Who knows what I’ll add now that I know how easy it is.
 
I’ll be describing it in more detail in a future post. For now, I am happy it’s done. My last 2018 project, just hours before the year turns into a new one.
 
This was the secret. Webhooks and IFTTT. I’ve never looked into them before.
 
https://ifttt.com/maker_webhooks

Blogging via Microsoft Mail – Shrink Week 1

When I have no Internet, the Microsoft Mail program included with Windows 10 still does the spellcheck, so it’s a pretty good editor for blogging. Today I realized it can actually be used to send directly to the WordPress Blog. 


I used a Star Trek reference to my psychiatrist, so he did as well. I can see how some patients might imagine themselves smarter than their doctor when in fact they’re just not aware of his ways on a different level. When dealing with somebody else’s brain at source code level, stepping on a butterfly really can change everything.


I am often amused by the memories I can recall from childhood. More often than not, I’m not remembering the events, but the memory is of the story told.  I remember my parents telling all the stories of my childhood. Our memory of LIVE is a stream, like a continuous roll of film, but the stories are more like edited excerpts.

A reality show like Big Brother or Survivor will have thousands of hours of footage recorded life, but the highlight show is only an hour a week. Our memory works the same way.  

It never occurred to me till just now how important it is for a parent to tell those stories from their children’s youth. Otherwise, we just have live memories in a continuous stream with no reference points. The stories of my own childhood are all the stories my family told me and told others when I was in the room. My youth was formed by the stories more than actual memories. 

This was vital as it turns out, because I don’t remember much from my past at all, but also an important tool to understand. What you remember from your childhood may be almost entirely fictional accounts, moulded and made up from the memories of your friends and family through retold stories.


I briefly fantasize about whether my new Dr Popolopolous would like to write my book with me. 
Fantasy buzzer. Monty Python Graham Caplan Too Silly, Stop That

End of part 2. Chocolate kisses and tokes at 1230am.

I forgot my Paxil again today. Falling asleep was harder than it used to be.

altfs

A real E-Nail Dab bong rip

At first I didn’t see the amount of smoke on the exhale that I expected, so of course – I did another one. Another few actually.

Still no exhale smoke. I did some nice long rips too. I remember being complimented on how big an inhale I could do back when I was first lkearning how to toke correctly. There is a right qaway and a wrong way to inhale pot.

I should poiunt out that, despite the opening remarks, I did — quite obviously, … feeel… the … effects. Or affects. I haven’t mastered that trick yet.

I am high.

I remembered a line my phsyciatrist (sic) (shrink) — The proicess overwhelmed, and I foirgot the goal.

That’s a shirt campaign; The process overwelmed and I forgot the goal.

I forgot the puitrpose of my story.

–Among the thoughts that ran through my brain at the end of that sentence were;

I just realizes if I list them, I’ll wander off into imagination to visualize each one, and a single line will either not b e enough, or it … 

The poioint is, comiting to a list when you’re tyhis high is futile. Much like resistance.

ding. Idea. On my phone, if I was blogging this using my Android and the GBoard, I could actually google what resistance is, in the electronics world, and perhaps make a pun or a joke referring to the electrica resistance so that my obvious Star Trek tie in would be less an indicator of my nerd-n ess.

 

That sentence took a long time to type and I think I wandered off the path. I have decided for this journal, I will use the idea that a Path is a much better anaology for my life. Oh shit!  That trigered a memory that was lost in the forest —

I am too high to write well. 


Mr Doctor’s Appointment Reactions.

(1) Feeling of instant guilt that I would consider sharing these openly.

(2) Feeling of pride sticking up for itself in the fictional brain battle for the right to choose esteem.

(3) Feeling of shame that the sentenmce above is crap. 

(4) Fee;lling of worry that I might be crazy

(5) Feeling of pride standing out like The Tick, defending that I have worth.

Feeling of shame that I was almost egotistical, which is a fear line core belief wall.

Feeling of confusion as I lose my place looking back at these instantanious descriptions of my reactions.

feeling of shame that writing about it could not possibly be real time.

Feeling —

I’m just going to dialogue a representation of what I am thinking as I type it, and 

thats where the heavy weed toke comes it. IT allows me to slow

down

I am sad this stuff I chose is still illegal, and a much higher risk undergroiund demand. I may actually have to give it up.

Shame. I’m not telling the whole truth.

A flurry of thoughts interupting each other until viewed as a group like a cloud of explatives or Pig Pen from Charlie Brown.

No, that ca’t be right. Pig Pen.

Ding. If this was on my phone, I could google it.

ding.

Hey Google, who was pig pen from chartlie brown

It will fail (I believe) so I might not have sked, but that seems silly as I type it, so I do.

Watch, it will fail. I am cheering fior it to fail so — I was going to say so you can see I was right, which is the only reason I’d pick a side and hope.

That is an unusual risk. If only I could remember what I was saying, I would contine, but instadea I am just focued on my keyboard.

I have not looked up.


ha. I did look up and see my brain tricked me into not asking the Google Assistant, because now I might lok like an idiot. I wasn’t going to ask, and yet, since then I had to look up again.

new> I smell my drug exhales in the room. It is a strong smel I can not judge from inside it, but I suspect it’ll be smelled upstairs.

I have the fan on.

I never decided whether that was better or worse for a smell to carry, but my best guess from this state is the fan makes it worse in the apartment, but I pretend to know because it makles me feel better,

I feel the fan might… I paused to change the abolsute, ve even in a sentence where I’d already provuided my out earlier in the sentence.

I grin because I know this explains my brain so well, folowed instantly with the assumption that it is just unreadable nonsese to you, the reader.

I’m best when I’m not woprrying about you, and your iopinions from the bfuture. It’s best when I ignbore you and trust that all I ever needed in my life was a second draft.

I stopped becauee I actually forgot the idea right before typing it.

My brain throws a tantrum distractiopn and my path is rerouted.

“If you’re the first one in the forest, you get to choose where the path will be.”


I insuted a good aquantance today. If we were all in Hollywood, this guy would have been Rob Lowe… no, .

Side Story.

John Stamos.  I could not remember his name, but he’d play my friend… however that is just in my Universe based on very few actual meetings. Jason is like a celebrity to me. A modern day Fonz. A cool guy I don’t have in my circle of friends. A player.

Now he may object and say I know nothing about him, and he’d be right, but my interaction with him has allowed me toi build his story. A DJ cool guy with good looks and frequentyly a different lady.

Rule: Never ever talk to the girl accomplaning a cool guy, because it might not be the same one next time and if you ask about her daughter’s dollhouse, and if they paintred the lkitchen pink, you’re going to get two very angry stares.

The story however is about how I got to the name Jogn Staomos.,

All I knew was he played JJesse on some show way back that may or may not be the same one with the host of America’s Funniest Home Vidoes playing a dad, but not his Dad I thgink.

Just now I realized I could have used the Olsen twins, but I chose to find his name from the cast of that show, but just as I was about to ask my Google Home, I flashed and forgot the show. I still don’t know it as I write.

Google only knew the cast back to Tom Bergeron and then I realized it might actually have been called something different. ding. Are they even the same show? ding. Google couldnb’t help me.

I asked if it would know who played Jesse, but sadly there was a show called Jesse so it won the first slot.

I knew they talked about him on Howard Stern’s radio show all the time, and they were friends in the past. He was married, oh yeah, she took his name.

ding. Rebbeca Rohmn Stamos. Ding John Stamos.

“The worst compliment you can give anyone, is to tell them who they remind you of”

I love that thought, although I am not the originator. I just bumper-sticker-ized, ding I twitterized it to it’ll fit on top of a pictiure of Doc Brown in the mirror and shared as an animated gif on Facebook.

————

Since we are communicationg more and more through written word and video than ever before, I am most excited about the emergence of gyphs

I know them by that, a brand name that current hold what I refer to as the Kelenex spot of invention.

GYphs (i hope thats right. I actually don’t remember the name I’m saying is famopus enough to be known by name for a genere. Somewhat like Google is to searching.

Are GIF and JPG and PNG all brtand names too? I remember the inven tor of GIF wanted to ask for a payment wheneverr one was used but I don’t remember any details. It exists in my memory only to this extent. I do seem to have memories that the video encoding was owned. I know we have to actually pay for the DVD licence. I wonder if the community looks apon DVD as dicks or herios for being the only hold out.

It’s probably a somewhet interestiung history, and it probably relates in some way to the HBO series — the name of which escaped me litera– Silicon Valley. Appatrent that thought hadn’t quite eft the building.

guilt. Even in my head I can tell when O puncline bomds.

SOmetimes the anaology is more interesting than the reality. I have to learn to use anaoloogies to explain feelings, but —

ding

That’s the connection 

feeling excited, which ifoir me is pride of a fresh idea I think is a winner

Evil laugh inside my head as I rtealize my exciotement at the process flooded my brain and the path is gone. 

I have on;y “That’s the connection” to go on before I forgot. 

YES>

My shrink tells me I need to “feel” emotions.  I am told that I can’t truly “feel” while I’m thinking, so I have to not only shut up my talking, but pause my thinking once in a while… or all the time.

At this very moment I think, wow.  I never quite looked at it that way. Ah, weed. Mixed seperatly days aprt with therapy is key for me.

UIntil it’s worse for me. It might eb worse, but I am not sure I would come to the same concultioins withjout it.

It is however Wednesday, and today I failed a few times. I have car trouble and that threw my stress and depression a notch higher because money is so tight, I am using coins for slices of pizza abd 99C Mac and chheese frozen boxes. KD is cheaper but twice the effort and not a good A.DD food.

Yes. That is a ting. People like me… Ok, Me. I have learned I should not cook food using devices that do not turn off when I forget about them. Microwaves do this for me, and beep loudly so I hear them — usually. The number of times I have opened the microwave for lunch, and found yesterdays microwave paste there with one day later. ding, I know. 

I have been writing in run on sentences becauee my thoughts seldom have a period. However in literature, it’s one of the things to avoid. If I click a button, WordPress wil even lable it with whatever the real word is for run on sentences.

Hmmm… No, maybe it is a run on sentence called a run on sentence.

The point is… Overusage?  I hate that line.

I have forgotten food in the microwave several times. If it had been the stove or oven, I might have — whatever.

Sadness. Is that what I’m feeling? Not really.

It’s a personal recipe emotion that I feel whenever I have to imagine a negative outcome to whatever I was imagining doing.

My brain is programmed to be the Libra. I need to hear both sides of everything. The balance. The scale of Astronomy, never before used to describe me, but the image came as I was looking for a ay to describe.

ding. I remember.

aaaand it’s gone.

Points of pride for adding a GIF or a GLPH here of the Soputh Park Meme “aaaand it’s gone”.

I wanted to say that our language online allows for a creativity that many people don’t get to express vocally for one reason or another.

One of my very favourite realization light bulb moments was that instant I realized the secret to romance by written word rather than face to face.

 

I was in the Universe of Second Life trying my hand at romance with a georgous woman that for whatever reason, on;ly wanted to type. There are literally hundreds of reasons why women prefer non verbal realstionships in that universe, and every man pertending to be a woman will give you a different reqason. You learn in time the main reason is that men are pretending to be women in unknown but apparently very high numbers.

However, I gave it a go as well, and learned something amazing. You can be wonderful with words. I used to write my feelings in brackets. They call it an emote, when you send a description of yourself or your thoughts rather than just typing what you’d say.

It is catching on in a different way in other socialm interactiosn. Animated Gifs are the world’s answer to Famly Guy style cutaways. I’m not saying Family Guy was the leader in attention deficite disorder.

DING. A.DD has a core training. My brain was creative and for some reason, so liniar that I can’t hold two thoughts if my feelings need to be heard, because excitement and pride flash thoughts in an action that is the opposite of self serving,

It’s a curse to get excited and forget what it was that excited you.

I believe tyhat happens more on weed than in real life but I started a coiunter and I’ve al;ready had it hapopoen in sober life three times.

A complete forget of te sentence I was saying because a distraction stole the path.

I wish I could remember the connection because something will pull this altogether.

guilt. I am constantly afraid my humour or writings will be interpretted in a way I can’t control, and won’t like.

The only way to avoid being judged, is to be alone.

When you share, you risk. You will be judged, but true happiness can only be sustaning when you realize oeveryone has their own universe. How they fill their library may be diferent than how you see the world and save your memories and none of it matters until it does.

It’s been thrown at me by numerou souirces. There is no right oir wrong. In thereapy and life, there is no right or wrong. Those are opinions at best of actions that have already happened. There just is, life has happened, and how we judge it is more opinioin.

Our universe is made up of opinion. TYhats what you call how we interpret facts for our universe. 

For clairity, The Universe exists, but my universe is finite. It is me, and will die with me. Because I fear judgement, or opinion, I have no created a new one. I can only hope to be remembered in yours. Being remembered favourably is my goal, but being remembered poorly is the fear that holds me back.

“You have a place in my universe. I hope you’ll think fondly of me in yours”

doubt.

ding

Yes. 

We are starting to FEEEL again. Once it started, negative feelings are among the first to peek through, and this is why so much of socioety is trying to hurt less. PC is more about making sad people less sadder or angry people less angry. Sad may be a poor word choice but in this case, I refer to actually sad people more than those who would call it clinical depression.

I am sad when I think of things I have no control to change, nor incling, but that I know will cause others sadness. I feel for them. It’s why we cry when  movie gets sad.

It might be easier for me to feel other people’s emotions, so much so that I developed a skioll that had me believing perhaps I was a true empath. Once that thought was in my head, I stuiggled with it, holding mental debates between the options.

I remember once an elder taught me the foolscap Pro Con list. A blue BIC pen line down the middle and you’d write down the FOR and AGAINST arguments.

My brain has worked that way since. It was only today I realized it and linked it to the scales of Libra.

I’ve listed one of my skills as empathy. I used to enjoy tackling complaining custom,ers because I understood they felt they were right, and I was frequently good at calming.

*Lose it #3 happened with a customer complain about — name of game lost in the translation from cells of memory to Englsish. I know it’s there but I can’t access it right now.

First pause. I’m going to strect hout, maybe watch some TV and rest early.

… or not.

 

End of Part 1.

 

How I became a Sidekick

My name is Richard, and this isn’t really my story, but it’s such a great story, it needs to be told and since I’m the only other person on Earth that know it, the task falls to me. In a way, I feel a bit like Dr Watson, who wrote all the adventures of his best friend Sherlock Holmes, except I’m not a fictional British doctor, but a real 17-year-old kid from Waterloo.

You might not have heard of me by name, because most of my story takes place in the basement of an old Castle just west of the city. Waterloo is a small City in Canada, about an hour away from Toronto.

The true hero of this journey is my best friend Paul. When I say Hero, I mean it in the real sense, but I’ll get to that. My story began on October 19th two years ago.

Paul and I did almost everything together, but recently he’d been spending less time with me and was being very secretive about why. It was starting to affect our relationship and I was considering looking elsewhere for a new buddy.

Apparently, it was affecting Paul similarly, and so on that night, he came to visit me and try to explain. That, as you’ll soon learn was no simple task.

The doorbell rang about 11pm, which was unusual for Paul. Both of us were still in school, just starting Grade 12 and living with our family. I was asleep already, and my Mom had to wake me up. I think she may have been asleep too, because she came to my door rather upset, wearing a housecoat wrapped up as if she had nothing else on underneath.

Apparently, Paul had been very insistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I got up and walked downstairs to the door. Mother hadn’t invited him in, which I suppose was a signal his visit wasn’t really welcome.

“What the fuck man? You woke up the whole house. What’s so important?”

Paul looked a little stressed, and was talking about a bit faster than usual.

He grabs me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye with a seriousness not usually associated with our friendship. “I’ve got to share something with you, and it’s got to be right now. I’m sorry it’s so late, but it’s urgent. It has to be now.”

I expect he’s going to reveal the reason he’s been avoiding me, but instead, his grasp on me turns into a push and before I know it, we’re outside the house, and the door closes behind me.

“Whoa Whoa Whoa I..have to tell my Mom if we’re going somewhere… I’m not even wearing shoes. Luck Paul, I’m still in my PJ’s”

Paul assures me it doesn’t matter and he throws my bike at me, jumps on his and starts to ride. “Follow me. It’ll all make sense in a few minutes. I promise. It’s really very important and it’s freaking me out. I need to show you something right away! I’m sorry I’m being cryptic. I’ll take care of talking to your Mom later. Time is critical”.

Time was always critical with Paul. He’d inherited a bit of that from his father, who used to always go on and on about how the easiest thing in the world was to be on time. I reluctantly got on my bike and followed.

Both Paul and I lived on the same street. It was a cul-de-sac in a new sub-division in what was farmland not too long ago. Every house was less than a decade old, except one. The old Castle we used to call The Miller Castle.

To my surprise, it was that Castle we were riding to. Paul zipped through the gate like he owned the place, but I jammed my brakes at the curb, making him return to fetch me.

“No way I’m riding up there at midnight without knowing more. What the fuck is this all about?”

Paul looked a bit shocked as I spoke and looked at his watch with true fear? “Is it midnight already? No.. No, it can’t be, right. I promise it’s worth it! It’s all going to be fine! Trust me Richard! It’ll be worth it, but we have to get there before midnight! Come on… It’s OK.”

I reluctantly got back on and peddled up the path. Paul’s expression had changed from one I thought was panic more to excitement, and although we were still moving at a crazy pace, and I still had no clue what was going on, I no longer felt like I was heading into some impending doom.

When we reached the front door of the Castle, he slowed down, took a few heavy breaths and started to explain.

“ok. Look.. I am not sure how to explain this to you, but as of now, I own this Castle. It’s mine. Oh man, I shouldn’t have started there. I’ve got so much to tell you buddy…”

Naturally, I assumed he was bullshitting me, but this wasn’t the kind of thing Paul was into. We didn’t do pranks. I was confused, and I was about to start asking questions but he continued.

“Let me explain. About a week ago, old Man Miller can to my door gasping. He looked bad… like he was gonna die or something.”

Nobody really knew old man Miller much. He was just the guy who lived in the Castle, and as far as anyone knew, he always had. It wasn’t like he as a hermit or recluse. We’d see him around town all the time, but he was quiet and kept to himself mostly.

He was mega rich and sponsored a lot of the city events but he remained pretty much a mystery. The only person I knew that had even spoken to him and had a most basic relationship with him was Paul.

“Ok Paul”, I said. “Does this have to do with why I’ve hardly seen you the past few weeks? Have you been taking care of Old Man Miller? Why couldn’t I know about this?”

Paul corrected me, saying it was more than that. A lot more.

“I’m going to open the door and let you inside now, but don’t be alarmed. There is a lot more story, but it’s so fantastical I’m intentionally taking it slow. If I just told you everything right away, your head would explode”. He pulled a weird old fashioned kind of key out of his pocket and opened the door. It was on his regular keychain next to his house keys, so it was clear to me, he’d been coming here a lot more than I knew.

He opened the door and we walked in. I didn’t pay too much attention to the interior because Paul’s strange method of storytelling had my adrenaline pumping. It looked pretty much like you’d expect an old Castle maintained by one man would look. Mostly dark and Dusty.

“Fuck Paul, you’re not going to show me Mr Miller’s dead body, are you? Fuck — you are, aren’t you? He’s dead and you’re –“

“Relax”, Paul stops me. Yes, he’s dead but that’s not important…”

“Not important? What the hell have you brought me into? Midnight? Why are we doing this now? If he’s dead, what the fuck does it matter when you show me? You know Halloween is two weeks away… Christ, are you looting Old Man Miller’s Castle at night? Am I here to help you carry some shit…”

“Shut up Rich. Time is everything… and you’re wasting it -“

“If you’d tell me–“

Then he did. He told me the story. He told me what he and Mr Miller had been doing after school for the last week. Apparently, Old Man Miller was older than we all knew and he was going to die. He knew it.

He came to Paul’s home that night, and he told Paul the story I was being told now. He had a secret and he needed to pass it on to Paul before he died.

“I’m supposed to believe this, right?” I asked, testing the trust between Paul and I. “I’m supposed to just believe what you’re telling me?”

He hushed me. “It’ll all make sense as I continue, but you have to let me get to the good part before midnight” he urged.

“Why?”

“Shut up”

As he continued, the visit from Old Man Miller seemed to be a bit unplanned, perhaps like Paul might not have been his first choice, but when you’re about to die, I suppose you make choices, and as it turns out, Paul was the only person in town Mr Miller had any real relationship with. It never occurred to me that he didn’t have friends or family. I would have thought rich people have a lot of people close to them, especially if they’re near death. I learned Old Man Miller was a lot more alone than I had imagined.

Paul explained he’d been cutting Mr. Miller’s lawn for years and had occasionally been invited inside when the payment was due, but he wouldn’t say they were friends. He was as surprised as anyone when he found him at his door.

Continuing, Paul was now speaking in a more normal relaxed voice; “Right there at the door, still standing outside, he starts recanting me his life story. When he was about my age, the previous owner of the Castle came to him one night just like this. He tells me he’s going to die soon, and has nobody to leave his secret with. He has nobody to leave anything to…”

“No fucking way,” I say, pre-guessing here the story is going. “He gave you his Castle? Fuck you. That doesn’t happen”

“Let me get to the good part”, Paul insists, and before I can interrupt again, he goes on; “Trust me, that isn’t the good part. Along with the Castle, which, yes, it’s legally mine now, along with his money…”

“wait… Hold on. How can you be so calm about that? Are you saying you’re the new Old Man MIller? Are you saying this is yours now? Fuck you. What is this really about? Come on Paul… I should be in bed sleeping. You know Mr. Fillmore said we’d be tested on that stupid frog thing tomorrow…”

Paul grabs me by the shoulders just like he had earlier, and looks into my eyes with that same seriousness, although I am slightly more sceptical this time. He looks serious but the words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous. I want to believe but he’s not making any sense. I start; “But –“

“Rich. Please. It’s almost Midnight. Please let me finish. For now, let’s just assume what I am telling you is true. After Midnight it’ll make sense, I promise. Yes. I’m rich now. I’m the sole owner of this Castle. We signed the papers with lawyers and all sorts of formal stuff this week. Yes, I’m rich now. I may never have to work again but–“

I wanted to interrupt but every time I tried, he’d give me a look, and I’d silently listen as he unfolded the story further.

“It comes with a secret, and this is why we’re here at Midnight. It’s big. It’s complex but I don’t have time to explain it all. I’ll tell you more after Midnight. It’s kind of awesome. I’m confused. I tried to tell you a few times this week but I can’t figure out how…”

“Well, you’re doing a crappy job. You’ve been a crappy friend for a while… But hey, if you really are rich, I forgive you… just spit it out. My Mom will be freaking out… Hello, I’m freaking out. What the fu–“

“ok… The Castle and money come with only one catch. It’s kind of a job I have to do. I can’t hire anybody to do it for me, and I can’t tell anybody”.

“But you told me–“

“Yeah, but old Man Miller is dead now, and I’ve been so stressed I’m bending the rules just for you because I had to. This is the kind of secret I couldn’t keep to myself.”

“So… what’s the job? Even if you are super rich now, I’m getting upset. Just tell me!”

He then reveals the Castle is old… older than anyone knows. It’s been handed down to a new owner every generation and nobody knows it’s origin story. Not even Mr Miller. It was here before the city. It might have been here before anything he tells me.

At this point, I just nod as he continues, knowing this story is going to be told at his place for some reason. I think to myself this better be fucking worth it because it’s 6 minutes to midnight and when I get home, I’m going to be in big trouble.

“There is a machine in the basement” he starts. “No, not a machine. it’s more of a gear… err… Umm.. well, whatever you call it, it’s —“

“You better not say Alien, Paul because I’m not ready for that kind of Revelation” I caution. I won’t believe you. I don’t believe you. I already don’t believe you and I’m going to be so much trouble…”

Paul reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He hands me $400 and tells me it’s real and this might help with calming your Mom. “Now shut up. It’s not Alien… oh, I suppose it could be. That would make sense actua–“

“Fuuuuuck… TELL ME!”

“Ok”, he says. “In the basement of what is now my Castle, is a gear that controls the rotation of the Earth… kind of. I’m not sure… It’s a kind of time mac–“

“TIME MACHINE?” I scream? “What the fuck Paul? I woke up for this? Are you high?”

“Shut up!” He commands. It’s not quite a time machine. It’s a gear that controls time and I’m the new caretaker. Now you know why it was a hard story to tell. It’s impossible to believe. I always wondered how people would react with news like this. In movies, they seem to accept supernatural shit quite quickly, but that’s TV. It took me a while to be convinced and I’ve tried 4 different approaches to tell you before tonight. I finally figured out to make you believe.”

“Oh really? You figured out a way to ‘make’ me believe that a stranger you barely know comes to your door one random night, gives you the keys and deed to his Castle and fortune. You’re suddenly the new caretaker of the Earth’s clock. I can’t wait to see this. Ok Paul… make me believe.”

Paul explains he has to wait until midnight, and then he hands me this old wooden box that sort of matches the interior designs on the walls. He explains on his previous reveals he didn’t know how the box worked exactly, but if I’m holding it at midnight, it’ll make sense and I’ll believe his story. I’ll believe my best friend is the new caretaker of a secret time machine that’s been in the basement at the end of our street since before we were born.

“Ok… but if some plastic clown pops out singing; “Jack in the box” at Midnight I’m going to punch you. I swear Paul. I’ve never punched anybody before but if this is a prank, I’ll make an exception. Ok… it’s time… Make me believe your story. Go.”

Paul looks at his watch, takes a step back from me, and then suddenly grabs a huge sword from the wall to his left, and swings it into his chest. He slumps to the floor dead.

———-

At 7am, my bedside clock radio clicks on and starts playing HEY JUDE by the Beatles. I wake slowly at first but the moment I realize I’m in my bed I jolt up thinking that was the strangest dream I’d ever had. I’m confused because it didn’t seem like a dream. I’d never had a dream like that before. My best friend Paul had this strange story and then he killed himself in front of me. The most realistic disturbing nightmare I’d ever had.

The music trails off into its famous repetitive ending, looping over and as the disc jockey announces the time, weather and traffic.

“It’s 7:02 on this wonderful fall Wednesday. Today is National Hershey’s Kisses day so eat some chocolate or kiss somebody today – your choice”.

I freeze. 

That’s how I started my day yesterday. Holly shit… What is happening? As I stand in a confused state of mind, my foot kicks something on the floor and as I look down, I see the box from my dream. The box Paul gave me at midnight last night…

In my dream? I sit back down. Listening to the radio, as it repeats yesterday’s songs and — yesterday. Yes. Yesterday. Why? What?

My phone buzzes as it vibrates on the nightstand. It’s a text from Paul.

“I assume you believe me. I hope your head didn’t explode. I’m outside ready to answer your questions. Oh, and don’t talk to your Mom about last night because it’s Wednesday again and from their perspective, none of that happened. The last time I tried this I forgot to tell you that and they were sure you were on drugs”.

I texted back; “I believe… we’re fucking rich and you’ve got a time machine! Holy fuck. My brain exploded. I forgive you for your odd way of telling me. I forgive you.”

No Internet Blogging

When the Internet is down, the email editor seems to be the best way to blog. It still works like an editor with spellcheck and copy and paste. It seems almost everything else won’t even load without the Internet. I have the WordPress app on Windows and I thought it would work without, but it has no options or features at all unless logged in.

It’s a Wednesday, although I’m doing y best to treat every day this week as if it were a Monday. It’snot always going well. I go to sleep early and wake up late and spend a few hours each day working towards my goal. The goal of ridding my apartment of bed bugs.

I have not been openly vocal on Facebook about it because bedbugs are kind of like Leprosy.. Nobody wants to be near you or associate with you in case they get infected.

I have not missed the Internet and TV much. I can check my mail on the phone and even if I happen to go over my 6gb of data this month, extra GBs are $10 for every extra 2GB. I do have to be careful though because I have missed so many bills and my debt is so high, I could miss the cell bill too, and that would be bad.

The problem with debt is that it gets bigger when you miss one or two. I think it’s almost $600 to get my Internet and TV back.

So the work helps me avoid or ignore the problems beyond this new distraction. Bed bugs are quite the distraction. Everything in my apartment has to be moved or thrown out and if it was in a cardboard box, I moved it to plastic bins, which are quite expensive in a time when I have no money. Luckily a friend donated some to the cause, including two #orange ones.

In fact, right now, August 21 I have a lot less than no money. I’ve bounced my car insurance, which was a payment I swore I’d never miss again because years ago, missing that bill caused them to cancel my car insurance. Getting new insurance when yours has been cancelled is a crazy expense but I happened by fluke to have a new accident in the grace period and it went up to 6000 dollars that year.

August is a good cheque month in general, but its also a month where a lot of the accountants go on vacation, so although I used more than $3000 in invoices, it seems a lot of them will arrive in the next few weeks instead of now. I just bounced the mail server withdrawl.

Adding it up, I’m going to need more than what’s coming in to pay what I owe before the loop starts all over again on September 1st.

I don’t want to think about it, so my days is mostly, sleep, pack and throw out. I have found some pretty cool things I didn’t remember. I also found a lot of cool stuff I can sell online.

Tonight, I’m watching Batman vs Superman or Superman vs Batman. I’m not sure how far into it I’ll get before deciding to bail and switch to something ligher.

This is the film they probably thought was going to be great as they were creating it. Lots of deep and dark effects and plot lines, but I’m not too impressed so far. Both Batman and Superman seem to be bad guys and I don’t think that’s what people want in a SuperHero.  I don’t like my superheroes to be evil.

Our Dream

Somethig that frustrates me in this new connected world is that we can see tonnes of cool people but they’re not in my city. Any future for me is digital and virtual. 

I’ve never had great success with online friends. They last till they don’t. I suppose I could look for — I digress.

Wouldn’t it be cool if there were a quality luxury nightclub / dance club that everyone could go to at the same time. Wouldn’t it be cool if this nightclub had very few rules, and drugs were welcome until the point somebody throws you out.

Wouldn’t that be cool?  I am pitching a virtuial restauarnt at the end of the universe. One place you can go from anywhere and even any time and get a free meal. That is the Hitchikers Guide to The Galaxy’s Milliways. They use time travel tricks, which I’m still working on… but I have an interesting proposal.

I pitch a virtual #D Avatar nightclub, perhaps Mollyways as a tribute to both the drug, and the Restauarat at the End of the Universe.  We could be the hot spot of the other universe.

Anyone from any country can log in, choose from a series of avatars from the virtual coat check, and enter. One side is like Dave and Busters but with sit down games, and the other side is a multi story masterpiece in various music styles. A list of suggested drugs for each style and tempo.

There are even trippy simulated drugs that can be a part of the fun if you choose.

It could be a nightclub with dozens or hundreds of people, but with one difference. Each level comes with a real DJ and MC. At certain times, Performers of the night will mingle and interact in a conversation starting way.

The virtual main ballroom has a connected suite of offices availble to rent for virytual meetings, perfect for interactive meetings from neighborhood comitties or business deals. Voice works like in the real world if you set your equipment (available for sale) correctly, but is also available push to talk.  Bluetooth earpieces work quite well.

The Cloud 9 suites on the 9th floor have romantic themes and your avatars can meet and converse, fondle, or have wild hot sex with over 200 sexual positions, either played for you like a show, or interactive with controls you can learn.

Custom scripting is a side income because everything you can concieve is achivable, within the confines of the current 3D Avatar system currently in use.

Best of all, private chat of course is available, and you get to create your own profile, so people can learn about you before even saying Hi. This is of course optional. You can remain so anonymous, you actually show up to the club as a Rabbit… or a horse, or a huge green furry thing like the …oh, like the blue furry thing from that pixar movie with Billy … crap. That’s the age thing already. Going for th name you know and forgetting it before you can exhale… or type. It is jumping up and down with the ..crystal.  Billy Crysal.  I think it was called Monsters Inc. 

wow that was an old man sentence.

In the version I’d use, I’d leave out the live brain transcripts.  LBT’s

Thats way better than the other names although Live Brain Transcripts of NOW

I have not given up the concept of now as vital. it is the God we can never reach. We can not percieve now.  wait.

I can not percieve now, so I often make statements or descions before I have thought them with the concious… brain. voice.

Weird I just visuaized that I am the second voice and the inner voice is first and last. As a cloud, that voice thinks the th…

I stop. It is clear I think differently when I am not typing. A toke on a 3 week old dab pen with flavour. Not really high but writing high.

I realize I lied to my sisters. I have been high since the hospital. ish.

I didn’t want the entire chapter from hospital to the first addiction meeting to be undocumented but…

oh.  I guess the pitch for mney got benched, like every other idea I write at night.

I hate that I do that. I think you could sell that idea nation wide on a tour with video and VR demontrstaions but no mention that it already exists until somebody yells it out. ha

The key is to sell it verbally or video online but sell the support guides, the activities and games, the dating, the live bands, the theme nights.  Sell the nightclub with cover charge but no charge virtual drinks. Live staffed waitresses. 

Run it like a 24/7 real word interface nightclub. sell the avatars. sell the customization. sell the clothes. It can be addicting but the amount of clothes avaialble to but nearly equals the real world. And because there are no countries, no time zones, no visual confirmations, it’s very free and open.

Did I mention there are BDSM classes and several for rent or public dungeon areas.

Charge for orgies.

I know not everyone will be into the avatar as much as others and many will ignore the sex options as silly or strange, but it can also be very romantic to some people who may have a hard time in the real world. In this world, you can find best friends, or be paired up to dance in the club.

Don’t think virtual avatar dancing to a high tempo EDM beat isn’t fun on molly. I’ve danced for 6 hours in the club.

Next, when the sun comes up you can see the driving range, racetrack out front and the beach out back, with another DJ playing beach hits.

Lastly, we can come clean and say it’spart of the most mind blowing 3D avatar world you can concieve, and then some. The only reason Second Life isn’t being used by almost everyone like The Oasis in Ready Player One, is becase the graphics still suck. The average gamer expects more, and in fact, the graphics continually break you out of the spell. I kind of wish they made them less manipulatable and more like a game cut scene. The motions and functions of the game are beyond what you cand think of, content wise, but the graphics are 2018, not 2020.

The gameplay isn’t the same as Grand Theft Auto as an example  with a higher level avatar detail, but make no mistake. Second Life is not a game. It really is, the Oasis from that movie, or The Multiverse from Snow Crash. Second Life is the same as this universe. It’s limits have only tio be imagined, to create. I only hit a few uses with the nightclub but there are churches, schools, horses, cats, dogs, birds and boats and planes and helecopters. Did I forget to mention you can fly. That’s even Something the Revery can’t do.

As long as you feed yourself in the real world, there are thousands of people all over the world, living in Second life full time, and making a decent living. For real.

Thousands more, part time but daily. On my first day, high on meth, I spent 16 hours straight, and then Sunday and Monday straight. I think I spent $300 real world money. I was hooked by a beautiful voice escort.

Yes. I fell in love. Of course much of that was on Molly first. Second Life is great for molly users because you forgive eveything irritating about the graphics glitches, and lose yourself in that universe.

It might be cool to create the club VR only and … no. They don’t have the power needed.

I also had the idea that Pot Lounges might like to open their very own 24/7 second location in the alternate universe. It’d be a catchy gimick to sell in a twon that might have comptition, or a sneaky way to move into a new town, by promoting the local virtual version first.

It could dhre hours on a big screen 1-1 ratio open hours and stay open after hours to continue your mingle or pickup.

Entertainment can be virtual OR streaming real world video.

We COULD stream shows on a scheule… so newly met friends can sit in the same theatre to watch The Gods Must Be Crazy for 52 weeks straight or Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

$100 starter kit includes….

Very attractive o your preference personal tutor and on call moderator like in Ready Player One, SNow Crash and whateer future movie it was where Orlando Bloom was the encyopedia on call in a tube… Or was it the guy from Rocky Horror, Tim Curry. My memory of men in tbes being on call with the answers has expanded. I’m even thinking of — well, I was thinking of a punchline extreme, but it must not have passed the inner voice sensors… err. censors. I forgot it s I was typing it.

11pm. Bed time.

end of part 1.