Christmas. At the mall. I've warned you in years past: don't go there ! But if you gotta go, you gotta go.

Santa

knows what you did last summer . . .

Fortunatly forgiveness is part of the Christmas creed!

If there were one day to be left alone and for people to understand to do that what day would it be? For some reason cooresponding holidays, special days, etc, coincide and, for some reason, the things in life that haven't rotted yet from neglect can suddenly become this very important focus. Attention from people that normally look your way. Why?

So I understand enough about myself to know to not set aside a time then like that anymore. I can't do it on that day, it's not good for me. It never was. There is a long chain of stories that are a list of train wreaks from lost time, and I don't care to write them. Recollecting them is a sad sap thing to do.

But it is fun sometimes recounting ideas and things that seem to be correct for me to write about, put a lot of effort into, not like a list of recollected moral failures of myself, or how my sins, my lacks, my depraved falacies of idea from the very long ago, which I have hoped that I'd killed and taken out of the equation, it makes me know how worthless I am. Something so simple as bumping your head and your whole life could be changed forever. The paranoia of it is worse than the actuall effect in 99% of the time.

Always in Need of edit

And what was I going to do? Link in some new images? Well they are ready. Some of them are interesting. Some of them have charisma (I'm being a salesman now. Oh, everyone can see through this malarky.)

I make images faster than I can catalog and post them. It's a factory of sorts. I have a sense of what has a good look about it, but, you know, I just make a slew of images using some transforms and I try to present them all in a very pleasing way. Maybe it is annoying for some. But now, with the content switches, the intial page will have a lot view images showing. It might look like a lot because most of what you see will be screen captures where there really were a lot there. I like the idea of it. I call them pick images. That concept also means using the image as the selctor and parcelling it up into an array of links.

In Wicked Need of an Edit

Political and Media Inanity

by Truck-u-later

Oh the murmers and triangulations of lost efforts. Saturdays come and go, the march towards inane endings continue. Lost? These things ought not be put here.

Bring them in from the cold.

If people won't listen to reason and come in from the cold . . . is it societies fault that they end up dead? Well, that is an obvious and stupid question that anyone who lives in a very cold place knows if someone is shivvering and you offer them a blanket, a place near a fire, a place to come inside and get warm they always do. If you let them keep a fire, they always will. Human Beings are smart enough to know better than to refuse the help when it is offered when it is really that cold. So, yes, it is societies fault if they freeze to death. It is becuase they should not have been made to feel like such strangers that if they are shivering and dying that they wouldn't be able to get help from someone, anyone, bring them somewhere warm. Give them a blanket. Let them keep a fire? Not in California with the desert conditions.

Well, there is always more work to do to help people, and the emotion of it is hard to hold back even if it is only strangers and not anyone that I know, and they are all so very far away.

read the story here

I think that if someone refuses the help to come in from the cold, when it is offered, that may be a sign of mental illness. In the case of people living in the hills of California, it might be that some of them had some substance abuse problems. It must be overwhelming for all of the social advocacy groups, this must really be a hard time, and grief.

Just a blanket. Just a blanket and a meal. And a bed at a place. Just a blanket and a meal and a bed at a place where it is warm enough to sleep without dying.

all snarky cynicism aside, the things that people have form in their minds as speculations, thoughts with which they would never agree but imagine that someone else might think it funny. But it's too negative, goes against a spirit of being a better person. Life doesn't need to always be a setting sun, a sad story where someone freezes in the woods of Santa Clara County. And yet sometimes the memory that ya we do live in the real world where these stark and hard things happen to remind us of the frailty of life, that small errors in judgement sometimes prove fatel, and life can end with a cold snap.

And that at this time of year people get all weepy and depressed because it is too hard to deal with the sad lack of what they wish but what isn't real. What is real? A blanket: a blanket is a real thing. So give that as a gift, perhaps, to a homeless person instead of a free ride on the giggle bus to your job outside the city living in a place with junkies right on the otherside of the wall on the street, which you could just see if you ever bothered to walk around and look. and then complain about how dirty they are and make yourself look like a callow fool. But you work for the big deal giant corporation.

Yes, folks, the Bay Area has very many vexing social cunundrums, and a lot of very clueless techies living within the ruin of the failed social experiment which is called crack/meth/heroin addiction: it is a failure as a lifestyle. The people who are in that in SOMO do not need to have the further indignation (after they have fallen into this hell, from which the rich young heedless generation of tech-mons could help them escape.)

And so the clueless tech-rons fail to notice the obvious. A junkie who won't come in from the cold does not deserve death on the street.

Anyhoo, I've devolved into senselessness, musing about things I read about SOMO, and what is going on there. I don't like being over in that part of SF when I go. It seems very gamey over there, nor would I want to live there.

When a house costs a million dollars what hope for junkies? Friends? Relatives? The social service advocacy group? All of those people might want to help but the junkie doesn't care. The junkie is just like anyone else and doesn't want anyone telling him what to do as a matter of course.

I suppose I had best put a link to the article that caused all of the rants of the above paragraph unless people imagine that I am just ranting about stuff that I am making up in my head (though a lot of what i read sometimese seems like that from other people). Here is a link to a thoughtful article, again at SF Gate.

OK, that's enough for today dec 16, 2013

 Truck-u-later is a
  guest columnist.

A dirge needs to be a dirge.

You can sing the dirge, but I know down in your heart you are merry with Christmas, loving everyone.

   Truck-u-lous
       don't ruck with us.
 oh
     Truck-u-lous
         don't muck with us.

  Trukulous
   stories  (staa oorr ee ss ) 
    of the
     long ong ago
                

15 Dec, 2013.

more from a newer fiction

what say ye oh milkman-popup sprite?

Milkman red devil popup :

"Merry Christmas!"

   
 when we need to edit
   do we always get it?
 and go back to delete
     before we push send?
 too much time typing
     the sound of the end
     of the work
      words flood on the screen
    

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© 2013 © Amillia Publishing Company © 2013 ©