GroovyFlowerChild

A duck walks into a bar and asks, "got any crackers?"
Bartender says no.Duck walks out.
Duck walks in the next day and asks, "got any crackers?"
Bartender says no. Duck walks out.
Duck walks in the next day and asks, "got any crackers?"
Bartender says, "I told you yesterday and the day before that I don't! And if you ask that one more time I'll nail your beak shut!" Duck walks out.
Duck comes back the next day and asks, "got any nails?"
Bartender says no. Duck says, "Good. Got any crackers?"

http://www.google.com/search?q=blahblajh&sourceid=opera&num=0&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8

Bow before my one-word, one-hit Googling!

-k.

OK, I'm ready to leave August 25th now.. here's today's post under today's heading, even.
----
Ah, another day at the office.

I.
Like.
Black.
Sabbath.

Can you help me? Are you from my brain?

I did a wee bit of VBS scripting the other day. Like, not even in a "convert to Perl" sense... I actually sat down and learned VBS basics.

Dis-gust-ing!

But it's handy, on a horrible Windows network. Run it on any Win2k boxes with WMI started, and you'll get nice concise output like this:

Node: nag

OS Name: Microsoft Windows 2000 Server|C:\WINNT|\Device\Harddisk0\Partition1
OS Version: 5.0.2195
OS Build ID: 2195
Service Pack Level: 4
Fix: File 1
Fix: Q147222
Fix: Q327194
Fix: KB823980

And the code looks like this:

Dim objFileSystem, objInputFile
Dim strInputFile, inputData, strData

Const OPEN_FILE_FOR_READING = 1

strOutputFile = "./" & Split(WScript.ScriptName, ".")(0) & ".in"

Set objFileSystem = CreateObject("Scripting.fileSystemObject")
Set objInputFile = objFileSystem.OpenTextFile(strOutputFile, OPEN_FILE_FOR_READING)

' read everything in an array
inputData = Split(objInputFile.ReadAll, vbNewline)

For each strComputer In inputData

' Start rest of script.

Set wbemServices = GetObject("winmgmts:\\" & strComputer)
Set wbemOSSet = wbemServices.InstancesOf("Win32_OperatingSystem")
Set wbemQFESet = wbemServices.InstancesOf("Win32_QuickFixEngineering")

Wscript.Echo "Node: " & strComputer

For Each wbemOS In wbemOSSet
Wscript.Echo "OS Name: " & wbemOS.Name
Wscript.Echo "OS Version: " & wbemOS.Version
Wscript.Echo "OS Build ID: " & wbemOS.BuildNumber
Wscript.Echo "Service Pack Level: " & wbemOS.ServicePackMajorVersion

Next

For Each wbemQFE In wbemQFESet
Wscript.Echo "Fix: " & wbemQFE.HotFixID
Next

Wscript.Echo

Next

objInputFile.Close
Set objFileSystem = Nothing

WScript.Quit(0)

In case you're wondering what it does, it just queries the OS version, the SP version, and any hotfixes that have been applied to the box. Makes patch management a bit nicer to deal with.

You can tell I'm bored when I vomit MS script all over LJ...

-k.

03-05-2002.

==================================================================
ANNOUNCING: [The Venerable] Theocratic Arch-Fascist Imperial Kingdom
of Nu'zilnd.
==================================================================

O yes, my brothers, Quake In Thy Boots! The current petty, foolish
rulers of Nu'Zilnd are running on borrowed time now. The time has
come to give these wannabe-dictators a shove out of office, and
establish a truly totalitarian government, for the good of the
country, and especially, for the good of YOU!

The Theocratic Arch-Fascist Imperial Royal Horrible Tyrant's Party
will be standing for election in 2006. It's a bit late to try for this
year, but we will be providing our own highly opinionated election
coverage from our ether-wave noticeboard, .

What do we stand for? To keep our arses from getting sore, mainly,
because we do an awful lot of sitting around, but so does everyone
these days and we're not the types to go and be all non-conformist
just because it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Which brings us to our first point: Warm fuzzies. To be encouraged at
all costs. A reward of a giant bee-coloured helicopter is this
Government-elect's way of saying "Thanks!", but we understand other
people have their ways too. Hugs, food, a playful slap-on-the-arse,
perhaps a thoughtful Haiku or compilation tape... whatever.

Just don't hurt anyone! For goodness' sakes!

Second point: "Law & Order" is a system that has proven itself to not
work, time and time again. Why? Well, there are still lots of
unlawful, unorderly things going on, and not everyone's happy. A
country with a well-planned system of Lawlessness and Disorder is
unlikely to be plagued by small rebellious groups of vigilante
ex-police or orderly librarian militia outfits. Education,
encouragement, apathy, and patience will replace the foaming-mouthed
"Justice" concept that everyone seems to get so worked up about.

What do we think about taxes? Well, they're actually a bit obselete in
our vision of Nu'Zilnd, because we'll be getting rid of money. You're
free to collect it if you wish, but we're unsure just how valuable
funny little pieces of metal and plastic with embossed/printed heads
on them would be to anyone. A bit like stamps, I suppose.

All right, but enough of what we're going to do away with.

*** Some thoughts and ideas of ours, so far:


WORKING BEES: --

The mostest superduper bestest way of getting something done, as any
Kiwi will know, is to hold a great big working bee with a nice big
meaty BBQ and a few kegs of beer. Sweaty blokes and blokesses teaming
up to do something productive, kids running around screaming and
playing and fighting and generally having fun, and a bizarre (compared
to office cubicles, anyway) work atmosphere that makes the whole thing
come together just brilliantly.

O yes, my brothers, I've done my research on working bees, and they're
the best thing since ground wheat. Every major task that needs to be
done in Nu'zilnd, whether it be building a house, marking a road, or
harvesting crops, we'll make sure there is enough beer, sweat, meat
and swannies to get the job finished.


MARKET DAY! --

Who needs a mall, strand, arcade, or row-after-row of boring,
unchanging shops just sitting around selling the same old shit to the
same old people, for the same amount every time.... I can't even
finish the sentence, it's that fucking dull.

The CBDs of all cities and towns in Nu'zilnd will be transformed into
huge open 24-hour markets where people can gather with their
wares/stalls and barter, haggle, beg, and steal, creating a nice
dynamic market with more focus on individual value than some bogus
number stuck on a shrinkwrapped piece of crap in a supermarket the
size of a small tropical island,


CARS ARE FOR WUSSIES: --

Yup, they are. You know it. Public transport is worse, of course, so
that's the first to go. All new roads will be dirt tracks, and all
road maintenance (c/- our fabulous working bees) on existing roads and
motorways will be to aid the conversion to animal-powered
transport. Horsies and ponies and big dogs (or medium-sized dogs for
small people) are the way to go. Yay!


SUBSTANCE ABUSE: --

No such thing. Well, I've never heard any substances complain.
Sometimes I hear people complain about substances, but I doubt they've
been abused by the substance in question. Whoever heard of a violent
cannibis plant, much less an armed one?

Eat/drink/inhale/inject/snort/ingest-in-general what you like, and
deal with the consequences yourself.


HELICOPTERS: --

Oh, we love helicopters. If there's a form of transport that's cooler
than horsies and ponies and big-or-medium-sized dogs, it's
helicopters. Big black/yellow stripey ones, with funny-coloured smoke
and crazy banners to brighten up our sky. These will be given as
rewards and prizes to people we think are neat or have done neat
things, so you can expect a lot of helicopter design & building
working bees popping up around the place.


EDUCATION: --

Blechk. School. 'Nuff said. The marketplace isn't just a place for
haggling over goods and services, you know... well... it is, but
information is a good and service too, ya know. At market day,
kiddies can run around various workshops learning stuff off funny old
hippie ladies and can trade with wise old folk for tidbits of useful
info. Permanent funny old hippie folk workshops will probably become
common in Nu'zilnd over a time.

***

We don't have opinions on anything else. Or, if we do, we haven't
written about it yet. Oh well. We're getting there.

Stay tuned for more Theocratic Arch-Fascist Imperial Royal Horrible
Tyrant's Party ideas, thoughts, and press releases.

And vote for us in 2006. We don't want to have to do the boring old
military coup thing, do we?

>> Then fix it, dear 'liza << (c) K. M. Shepherd, 18/04/2002.

Speed. Light. Shape. Down the tube and out the shadow. Over
the rock and between the vacuum. Pure energy, changing it all.
Rotwon blinked. He'd never had a proper religious experience before,
and he hadn't ever planned to, either. That sort of thing always
struck him as akin to a bizarre and unnecessary plot twist in a movie,
serving only to destroy answers and create frustrating new
questions. In any case, it didn't appear to be leaving. In fact, it
was growing stronger every second, a wailing klaxon declaring war on
his ego. He could feel the individual particles of himself, and the
soul-klaxon was seeping into the cracks between them -- a very
disturbing, if not profound sensation. He could sense all
movement... All Movement.
Somewhere in the back of his skull he heard metal-tinted voices,
laughing and chatting. "I think he likes the Water". "Huh huh".
The universe became perfectly colourless, and then perfectly small,
and Rotwon knew he was in the Observers' Realm. He became aware of a
being -- well, just a face, really (it was hard to tell) -- directly
in front of him, nose to nose.
They'd apparently been conversing for some time.
"...Yes, it is, though that will not matter soon." the face concluded.
Rotwon blinked again. "Who're you?"
"I am Reason."
What? A personal incarnation of reason? A god? Reason is a god?
The face looked down and swallowed the man's thoughts, a look
of impatience crossing its features for a moment. "I am more like a
virtue."
"Hmph. I'd call you an instinct", said Rotwon haughtily, in his
godless disappointment, and immediately regretted it. Sudden numbness. He
shouldn't've hit that raw nerve.
"Hmph yourself," sneered the face, and stated sagely:
"1. Reason is a virtue;
2. I am Reason;
Therefore: I am a virtue."
"How do I know reason is a virtue to begin with?" Rotwon's confusion
was increasing rapidly, and he didn't know how long he could keep
interested in this sort of conversation. It was novel, he admitted to himself,
but substituting poetry for logic is no way to keep a sentence lively.
Indeed, he could see the sentence standing, straight-backed, like a
toy soldier, all duty and no fun. The sentence turned to look at him,
and bristled its waxed moustache in disgust. "That's right! Convey the
meaning, congrue with reality, leave the namby-pamby for the bleedin'
songwriters!"
Rotwon was deciding that Reason's sentences weren't his cup of
tea, when he realised he was alone.
Everything was changing again, except this time it didn't
stop. Everything changed until Rotwon's knowledge of it finally faded,
and he picked his head up from out of a bowl of foul-smelling
soup. Around the table, three vaguely familiar men cheered and laughed.
"How was that for your first spike, Donald? Pretty good, eh?" said an
elderly, sickly little man directly opposite. "Thought you'd like it,
bro -- it's THE high. It doesn't get better than that." A slick-haired
youth lit a Marlboro and smiled, fingering a syringe on the table and
then gesturing wildly at Rotwon with his eyebrows. It looked more like
some kind of violent facial spasm to Rotwan, and he stared with
concern at the young man. He tried to speak, and gave up. He sat very
still and let reality flood back into his veins, like an antidote.
The room was very small. The timber wall behind Rotwon was adorned
with a simple stained-glass window, depicting a stylised sacred-heart
Christ. The room was littered with weapons, pills, needles and lines.
Tea chests and beer crates were stacked in each corner, and
were being used as seats. There was no door, Rotwon realised
with a start, and he fainted.

* * *

Imagine, if you can, a substance that brings ecstasy and enlightenment
in similiar levels to, say, being fucked by a Messiah. A drug that
picks you up and shows you Everything. They call it Holy
Water, these days, but it's a very different mixture to the water
found in cathedrals or monastaries. This isn't just The Real Thing,
it's The Thing. The Only Thing That Matters, once you've tried it and
found a way to get more. (You will find a way to get more.)
You would get close if you snorted a vial of pure coke, stabbed junk
into your eyeballs, ate a letter-sized blotter sheet of acid, and
filled your lungs with opium, simoultaneously. Entering Heaven would
be closer.
Now imagine three seasoned users of this substance, nervously trying
to revive the body of a middle-aged banker, named Donald Rumsfeld, who
they'd kidnapped a few weeks earlier and force-fed ridiculous amounts
of junk. He'd held an impressive amount of heroin in his system. He
didn't react so well to the Holy Water, however -- which was strange,
because Xes said he'd never seen anyone react 'badly' to it, and he'd
been squirting the shit into his veins for decades.
Xes was sitting there now, covered in moth-eaten tweed and wool, and
staring at the table, thinking very hard. This wasn't supposed to
happen, but it was something he'd been waiting for. And it meant
something significant. Some kind of significant trouble, he wagered
himself glumly.

Xes allowed himself a quick glance at the sleeping man. He looked like
Hercule Poirot after a year of sweatshop labour. He was very short,
and his beady eyes had something prescient about them -- you could
feel his brain working away like a little supercomputer, analysing
everything in range of his senses. Not now, of course. Right now he
looked like a drugged-up bum snoring another day away in a shelter or
bus stop. Like me, Xes thought, without a trace of sadness or
regret. He knew his place in the world. God had told him, and it made
perfect sense. The only thing he was worrying about these days was the
foolishness of the rest of man. The plan was so close to doom! He
looked back to Donald, who was dribbling and blubbering as he
snored. Lovely. He certainly wasn't the same Donald they had hired to
oversee the books at their fledgling distribution company,
Grailkeepers. Grailkeepers, the old man scoffed to himself. A perfect
plan in unrecoverable tatters. Rumsfeld had smelled a gargantuan
shit-covered rat as soon as he had been working with them for a couple
of days, which was why they'd locked him away. Once you got an
inkling of this mess, you were either part of it, or dead. Still,
Rumsfeld was a useful asset. If he didn't choke and die, or go barmy
from the strangeness of it all, he'd be better to have around than
those two wild-eyed youths in the corner.
As if on queue, Curtis ran his hand through his hair and smirked at
the old man. He kicked the fat teenager lazing next to him and muttered
under his breath. "Torq, look, the old geezer's having another flashback or somethin'."
"Heh." The fat kid tried to arrange his arse so it could comfortably spread
over two beer crates, and fell off instead.
"Jeez, you're pathetic. Nothin' on him, though," Curtis said, gesturing to the
hunched figure sleeping at the table. Xes pricked his ears up.
"Leave him alone. He's going to be very, very important, if he-- if ANY of us survive this."
"OK, Xes. You know what I think about your stinkin' opinion, though." scoffed Curtis,
still arranging his hair in a shard of glass. The three men continued to bicker
and talk idly. Only one of them had the tiniest inkling of what was slowly
taking place, and the other two would never, in a million years, believe him.
* * *

When Rotwon awoke, he was alone again. A coffee-stained parchment lay
on the table in front of him. He picked it up, yawned, and quietly
read aloud the message:

I NEED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE NOW -- WILL BE BACK SOON. DO NOT TROUBLE
YOURSELF WITH DETAILS. KEEP AN OPEN MIND.
X.

`Do not trouble yourself with'... Rotwon's hand was trembling
already. Oh, he would be troubling himself, alright!
Himself.
Rotwon half-expected to discover that he couldn't remember who he was in some sort
of horrific, sudden, light-bulb fashion; instead, the realisation that he was
without history washed over him gently. It was an awful feeling, made
worse by the fact that it was all his mind could concentrate on -- he
had no memories to turn to. How long before the dankness of this empty
cell drove him to madness, or suicide?
Suddenly, he remembered his trip, and his brain was filled with colour: A genuine light-bulb
moment.

To be continued...

Pretty awful, huh? *shrug* Good writing tends to be serious, which tends to bore the shit out of me.

Thought I'd stick this post of mine from nz.politics on here.
If anyone would like to read the thread (warning: it's HUGE.. Tony and I have been arguing for days). it's called "Re: GOVERNMENT SHOULD REJECT CANNABIS DECRIMINALISATION NOW".

Please post any comments and suggestions, as I'd like to write a more formal rant some time. (note: the above comments are by me, then Tony Cook, NZSDP spokesman, respectively)

---

> > Smoking pot in my living room is not forcing anything on anybody,
>
> Yes it is.
> I cannot understand how you can't see this.
> If you smoke pot anywhere - you are breaking the law
> and encouraging - by your very actions - others to do so too.
> Also - others associated with you, are now slated, and slighted
> with your criminal activities.
> Then - on top of all that - the tax payer has to pick up the tab
> for your folly and criminal activities later.
> It's inevitable.
> You are *forcing* your disgusting habit onto the whole of society,
> who don't want it in their midst at all. That's why it's illegal.
> If you can't see that - you've got to be as thick as a plank.
> Drug taking is *not* victimless and extremely harmful.
----


pro?hi?bi?tion (pr-bshn)
n.
1.. The act of prohibiting or the condition of being prohibited.
2.. A law, order, or decree that forbids something.
--
crim?i?nal (krm-nl)
n.
One that has committed or been legally convicted of a crime.
--
in?no?cent (n-snt)
n.
1.. A person, especially a child, who is free of evil or sin.
2.. A simple, guileless, inexperienced, or unsophisticated person.
3.. A very young child.
--
law (l?)
n.
1.. A rule of conduct or procedure established by custom, agreement, or
authority
--
free?dom (frdm)
n.
1.. The condition of being free of restraints.
--
so?ci?e?ty (s-s-t)
n. pl. so?ci?e?ties
1..
1.. The totality of social relationships among humans.
2.. A group of humans broadly distinguished from other groups by mutual
interests, participation in characteristic relationships, shared
institutions, and a common culture.
3.. The institutions and culture of a distinct self-perpetuating group.
2.. An organization or association of persons engaged in a common
profession, activity, or interest: a folklore society; a society of bird
watchers.
3..
1.. The rich, privileged, and fashionable social class.
2.. The socially dominant members of a community.
--
mar?i?jua?na also mar?i?hua?na (mr-w?n)
n.
1.. The cannabis plant.
2.. A preparation made from the dried flower clusters and leaves of the
cannabis plant, usually smoked or eaten to induce euphoria.
--
Just so we have some point of reference, these are the definitions I am
using.
I believe you may have a different view/definition of each of these words,
which is why you're getting frustrated with me "not seeing" where you're
coming from. I'm going to present an argument in the form of a bunch of
statements -- I don't have any statistics handy, but I'm in the process of
collating some and being able to put this forward as a well-thought-out
rant. At the moment, its just a rant.

Here's my argument again, hopefully more understandable than before::
--
"Why decriminalisation of cannibis is a positive step for New Zealand"

We live in a Society of restrictions, not of rights.

We need to change this. We need to promote responsability and consideration,
not force people to act according to others' wishes. Nobody should be forced
to be an altruist.

One of the State-imposed restrictions currently being thought about is the
use of recreational (and medicinal) drugs such as marijuana -- it is
currently prohibited, which (in this case) means it is illegal to cultivate,
sell, buy, consume, or possess.

Marijuana consumption is still very high. It survives because of the Black
Market, which means traders have to work "underground" -- without the
knowledge of the State. The Black Market is run primarily by gangs and
criminals, because of its dangerous nature. Black Market drug dealers are
often involved in violent crimes, and usually have little or no respect for
the State, its laws, or its law enforcement agencies.

Marijuana has medicinal properties, mainly as a relaxant and painkiller.
There is an organisation currently being set up in New Zealand called "Green
Cross" that is dedicated to supplying legitimate patients with good-quality
cannibis for medical purposes, from non-Black Marketeers.

Marijuana can have severe detrimental effects to the health of long-term,
regular users. It is usually consumed by smoking, and contains about 400% of
the tar found in standard tobacco cigarettes. It can also damage short-term
memory and intellect and lead to paranoia and slow-thinking with heavy,
regular usage.
It only does this to the individual who has decided to smoke this substance.
It does not detriment the health of anybody else.

Marijuana is not physically addictive in the way that some Class B and A
drugs are. It is possible to become psychologically dependant on it, as with
other 'non-addictive' substances like alcohol and chocolate.

Marijuana-related offenses are jailable. That means the taxpayer pays for
the accomodation of Black Market dealers and for innocent smokers, if they
are caught. This is a direct result of the prohibition of Marijuana, not the
fact that the cannibis plant exists and can be smoked. Current New Zealand
legislation states that marijuana-related activities are criminal activities
(because they are prohibited), not the plant.

It is impossible to overdose on marijuana, unless you define 'falling
asleep' as 'overdosing'.

Marijuana does not require any 3rd-party involvement. The cultivation and
consumption of cannibis is an activity that involves cannibis, and the user.

Since the late 60s, when drug culture was starting to hit a peak, propaganda
has been militantly spewed by prohibitionists wishing to control what people
eat and inhale. Most of these people have a well-meaning reason behind
this -- they don't wish to see any people suffer the effects of drug abuse,
and they don't wish to pick up the hospital bill. Others are prohibitionists
because the State says so, or God says so, or The Majority says so (although
I don't think they have, yet... anyone?).

Violent crime and criminals exist externally of drugs. Drugs, at present,
are an excellent source of revenue for Black Marketeers, thugs and gangs
because they hold a monopoly. There is no other reason that drugs and
violent crime are associated. Drugs do not turn people into violent
criminals. Drugs turn people into "criminals", by definition.(One that has
committed or been legally convicted of a crime).
By definition, these people can also still be innocent. (A person,
especially a child, who is free of evil or sin).

The business of dealing in prohibited goods can, however, turn people into
violent criminals.
Why?
Beacause of the prohibition. If it were legal, it would be sold by friendly
cafe-owners and legitimate, fair traders. Because it is illegal, it is sold
by gangs and thugs. Violent people.

I cannot stress this enough.

Read all the facts you like, ask all the people you like:

** The ONE problem involving marijuana and other drugs that affects all of
Society is: The Drug TRADE.

** The ONE reason the drug trade is a problem, is because it is PROHIBITED.

I will repeat, again - prohibition is supposed to mean something isn't
allowed to happen. What it means, in reality, is that it does happen, but
drags in undesirables, and turns the issue into an actual problem.

Decriminilising cannibis is a step in the right direction: The legalisation
of all substances. The freedom to choose. The freedom to grow, and own. The
freedom to treat your own body however you like.

Marijuana is something that is only affecting society while society attempts
to control its use.
Being stoned isn't being a menace to society.

"Say _____ to Dope!" <-- choice!
"We don't need the weed! But why the hell should we care if people wanna use
it?"

-k.

ps. Sorry if the dictionary pastes stuffed anyone up.. it tried to attach a
bunch of .gif's for the non-standard characters on my first post attempt.

This from the (Official) Planetarion Newsletter:

"This will allow the users to change the look of planetarion to allow them to make planetarion look more like they want it to look."

Egads. Too much looking for my loo.. err.. liking.

...
My first little rant about the Statist New Zealand system of government, the complete lack of personal and social responsibility it offers, and the shit it has sprayed over the individual New Zealander. I'm just having a go at writing my own humble opinion... I'm not a political scientist, or an academic.. just a bored hippie with wierd (or so it seems) views.

---

...Not to say that this doesn't happen in other places, but I can only write about what I know.

Passing the buck: I reckon it stops at us. (until it gets taxed, of course)

From the subheading of this article, I probably look like just another political activist blaming the current NZ Government for all my problems, right? Not really.. I'm not blaming any Government, Parliament, or party. I think our system of government (ie. the way NZ is governed) is utterly stupid -- more on that later -- but I don't blame it for being stupid. After all, it didn't invent itself.. a bunch of normal people like me did, and there's no reason another bunch of people can't come up with something better.

Instead of knocking the old British aristocrats who came up with our Westminster Abbey-style dictatorship, let's take some responsibility as the people actually affected by it, and make our own lives better -- waiting for the State to give us freedom is futile, and the fact that so many of us are doing just that is a pretty good indication of the kind of attitude our 'leaders' have brought us up with.



It's.. like.. exactly what they WANT us to do, man! Whoa!


Easier said than done, of course... the State protects its own, and itself. Because of our current lack of freedom, we can't even change this system without becoming a *shudder* politician (and be corrupted/broken by the power in the process) or having the majority of New Zealand agree with us. Ah, democracy, another subtle tool of power used by the dictators of New Zealand, imbued by the ignorant masses.

Yes, I may suffer because of idiocy or thoughtlessness by the decision-makers of New Zealand, but I am not free to do anything about it... on my own, I am powerless.

I am powerless because there are 2 groups in New Zealand with power. The State and The Majority -- Elitist Greed and Public Ignorance.

Socialism & Democracy.

Now, because I'm not an academic, I won't go into all the philisophical and political theories behind these ideas -- the ideas themselves are good, and in some situations I could see them really working well for a community. Not me, though. Or you, probably. Or your friend, and his friend, and her Mum. PEOPLE. And by people I don't mean PEOPLE! - the hive-minded machine that the lefties want us to become - I mean a group of individuals that live in the same landmass, but have different needs and abilities, opinions and ethics, skin-color and sexual preference... it doesn't matter. We're all different. Very different.
We don't all have common goals, we're not content to devote our lives to maintaining the status quo and advance 'Society', and we..



..sure as shit don't fucking roll!
Shomer-fucking-Shabbas.

*Ahem*
In any case, you can see why a 'social democracy' isn't for me (or you, or your friend.. or Walter). I'd rather make my own informed decisions than sit back and let the bunch of whining brats in Parliament enforce their petty rulings (which usually serve no purpose other than to placate the masses or further their own career) or, even worse, hand the power over to the people (since when did George from Upper Hut know whether I should smoke drugs or not?).

Socialism and its kin believe the needs of Society outweigh the needs of the individual.
Instead of letting me run my own life, support myself, think/speak/act for myself, and help others in my own way/place/time, Socialism splits the responsibility up... Society (with a capital 'S') is split into a lower class, The People, and an upper class/leadership, The State.
The State can do all our thinking, speaking, and acting now -- no need for individual liberty, because if you go off and do your own thing, you might not be doing the best thing for The Future Of The Human Race!
Meanwhile, The People can do the donkey-work -- work as hard as you can, earn as much as you can, and The State will reward you by making sure you only have as much freedom and property as It thinks you need. Great.

(Social) Democracy takes it even further: the needs of MOST of Society outweigh the needs of the rest of Society, including the individual.
Of course, mixed with a healthy dose of propaganda from The State, our benevolent Society leaders, Social Democracy can be used to achieve the same results as fascist Socialism.

Well, I say fuck the dormant beast that is Society, and fuck worshipping that higher class of Society, The State. Paying taxes (one of the forms of legal theft under Socialism), obeying ridiculous laws, and putting up with the Government telling us how to live and think is inacceptable. I'm not a robot, and I'm not a moron. I'm ME, damnit, and the only person I'll answer to is ME.

With that... here's a challenge to The State:

Leave me the fuck alone. And watch as I support myself, coexist peacefully, make my own goals & choices, and LIVE.

-K.

Not much happening at the moment...
I'm glad my friends rock. I hope they know it.


OK, I think it might be time for a... HAIKU!

---

Sleep-walking through life
Eyes closed and fingers crossed, I
Can't see any point.

Gorsh, I haven't written anything in a while...
I'm still alive! I feel like writing something good and topical and interesting, so stay tuned (or don't -- it really won't make your life any better to do so)

- K.

:

Landlord re-visiting today.. house wasn't looking so nice when I left it this morning, and I doubt anyone will wake up in time to fix it properly.

*Hopes like hell he still has a home by this evening*

Well, I'm off to legally smoke another cigarette ;)

Landlord came over, was most unimpressed at the general state of the house.. if it's not completely up-to-scratch by Monday, our chances of keeping the place aren't high. Oh well, we'll survive.. even if it does mean *shudder* cleaning.

And nice people keep coming around and making us giggle with their funny cigarettes! ;)

--
Kimism, coming soon to a department of philosophy near you.
--

Back in smelly cold Hamilton. The house is intact and unbuglarised -- woohoo! (And I took Amy back down with me -- even more woohoo!)

On a less 'woohoo' note, the new flatmate(s) aren't looking up so far.. they've figured out that I'm a pushover, so we'll just wait and see whether they try to take advantage of that or not.

On an even less 'woohoo' note, a while ago a friend and I were raided at his old house, which he happened to sell drugs from. We thought he'd get off light, and he had a really decent probation officer, but it looks like the judge was a cunt -- I arrived back to hear he's in prison for 10 months.. 4 months if he's a good boy.

Luckily, this guy is the biggest white guy in his cellblock apparently, and he's also a total pacifist and generally a cool dude (although I sure wouldn't like to be on the recieving end of his ham-sized hands if he was forced into a fight) so people should leave him be.

Orph (Ants) left for Switzerland on Tuesday... lucky cunt! I'm pretty sure he'll be having an abso-fucking-lutely rocking time though, which is what counts.

All round, I'm still quite cynical and bitter, but in a resigned, vague, apathetic sort of way.

-K.

I'm enjoyin' seeing all my Northland buddies, 'specially Davo and Anu.. I'll have to properly visit them sometime soon.

Other than that, I've spent ALL my (fortnightly :/) paycheque on drugs, alchohol, cigarettes, and parephenalia (sp?). Luckily I can survive at my folks' house and eat their yummy food, but I don't really like bludging.

I will say though, I certainly got my moneys' worth from the first few purchases... drinking (read: shotting) two 40oz's of whiskey (Jamesons and Jim Beam, respectively) straight leads to many laughters!
I'm bewildered that no-one up here seems to be able to find weed easily... bewildered. Indeed.

I also am feeling like an object.. or was starting to.. I think that'll abruptly stop now that money has stopped flowing from my wallet ;)

Something feels not-quite-right about the whole visit, or people, or something, but I can't figure out what, so I'm just gonna ignore it.

-K.

For those who care, I'm coming up North soon :).

-K.

Bought a book yesterday.. first time in a while, but I might as well exercise the few brain cells I have left.

*sigh* I'm so bad with money.

...didn't think so.

Anthony's room is now study/misc/computer room.
Hamilton is still sodding cold.
Work continues to go well, although I still have no money.
Social life starting to be nonexistant, but hope to change that soon.

[Insert colour here] supremacy amuses me.. it's like little monkeys trying to get a handful of peanuts out of a jar... they think they have this great idea... but I don't think they've thought it through as much as they could.
Often, racists read too deep into phenotypes, and turn into colourists, which is even sillier than racism.


Thus endeth my collection of random morning-thoughts.

Feeling much better now... with the help of some good sleeps and some cold-pill things (with DXM in them! w00t!). Now that i'm feeling non-ill I'm eating more/better too (OK, mainly 'more'). Yippee.

I think I'm dropping out of/failing my uni paper.. oh well, it would be nice to have more free time anyway. I think if I want a BCMS or something later, I'll do it full-time.

OK... the last time I was 'sick', it was a headcold. This is hardcore flu.
I want to go to sleep.
And I think I could do with a proper massage.. my lower back constantly hurts and the muscles feel like they're made of iron or something :-/

I'm also going to try not eating meat (or anything protein-ey) for a few weeks, and see if my general health improves.