from this place to there

kiss his very pompous ass. what everyone has to do. or the commander in tweet will mention a name and stock will plummet. are we at the greater america yet?

tired — you think YOU’re tired? i wish i could worry about puppies and butterflies. or how well water works for a diet aid. but instead i’m caught in this infuriation. it’s that stunned state of being, when you find yourself asking, “ARE PEOPLE REALLY THIS STUPID?????” and then the answer is yes, yes they are.

i’m thinking most don’t get how everything so far is underplayed. for a change, the press is actually working to NOT panic the public. but i just read more about the latest damage committed via thumb-twitch. and i’m past shaking my head — i’m shaking my head with my eyes bugged out.

the soon-to-be commander in tweet is like a two-year-old with a hammer. and everyone is just sitting back watching him swing it, with no thought that maybe a two-year-old shouldn’t be given a hammer. fact is, i HOPE it is mindless. because if the destruction is not mindless, that means he knows.

from here, i want to go where this stupid doesn’t affect me. the problem IS, there is no such place. i’m supposed to concentrate on mundane and normal things in life — find the ironies! find the sensibilities. but all that IN me, was based on the knowledge that tomorrow was not going to unravel every single step made so far.

why should i bother with art? why should i write, or do anything– when it’s all going to be meaningless under the 5th reich? when the only art that will gain steam will be portraits of his royal highness? to please the royal monarch? because if you don’t, he will put your name up and have his trolls hunt you and kill you in your sleep. or shoot you at an airport.

so i don’t see a world here for me. the russians get back at america for the sanctions that cut russian currency in half … we did that to them this last year. we kicked their ass HARD. so they made it a priority to get the candidate that promises to lift their sanctions. they plotted and interfered, and were all over the internet pretending to be american citizens, and pitting americans against americans. you think you’re hating a democrat, but it’s really a russian. you think a right-wing nut is going off on you — but it’s really a russian.

and i shouldn’t be pissed off. i should find the better place. just ignore washington dc, think of it as something far away. as i pay more and more for groceries, and have less and less to get by every month — i should just sit and think about what? because it’s going and gone… the fall is irredeemable. WE ARE SCREWED. are looking at 2 generations, maybe 3– where the poor language skills of mr. trump reign supreme. are looking at hearing the rhetoric out of the mouths of babes, and how are the teachers to correct them?

it’s a nightmare of unlearning that would need to happen — and so it won’t happen. why should anyone bother? why should good literature even happen, when no one will understand anything because it isn’t 10 words or less sentences with repeated punch words every 8 words and combined with sign language in a waving of anger and dominance that you hypnotically trust because the punch words hit at the right spot to lead you into concurrence.

we will have horrid repetitions of the idioms and the mannerisms — that have no manners. no responsibility for the damage he does. and a law CAN be made, we can base it on not allowing the president to man his own private militia. have congress write a law that the POTUS cannot tweet, or facebook, or instagram — no social media unless in the formal capacity of the office of president. just outlaw it. but the fact that we need to do that is difficult, to make that step. thing everyone needs to remember, is that it’s a two-year-old swinging a hammer, and SOMEBODY needs to yank it out of his hand.

why should i bother with writing or art — when the next swing will destroy everything i’ve worked for? when it will cut it’s way through everything civilized. and for what? oil? great, the oil and fracking marches onward. and i pay more for groceries. those who have cars pay more for gas. and land speculators like his royal tweeter just get richer and richer (land speculation booms with inflation). and the royal ass that requires every american and NON american kiss it over the entire world — then plans to make tax laws to leave his family more money by lowering the taxes on himself.

i don’t speak any untruth here. i will make voodoo dolls and set them on fire … i don’t know what to do. i will leave it, i guess. try to ignore all the children i will hear talking and bragging and acting out exactly like trump. (but we all know i will be telling them to mind their manners). and the ones that will fall to imitating bad examples is the lower class. not the middle or the rich. the ones that will use the technique and then LOSE more — and go farther down into poverty. america just shat on the children of the lower class. the kids i see walking home every day.


the other place i can go, is to forget the world exists, and not give an artless fat-kidneyed dewberry. which of course i can. but i’m pissed. i will remain pissed. i won’t contribute to a world like this. you all made your bed, you get to lay in it. or you SET IT RIGHT.

90B fan error and possible firmware corruption hp laptop

so am working on this large hp laptop from windows 7 days. was behaving erratically. when i started it up, the audio from a flash program (in the cache–it was NOT hooked up to the internet at all!) kept playing even when the user was logged out and logged onto the Admin profile. that’s pretty much not possible — any adobe flash is going to be stored at the local level. so right off the bat, i’m going how in the heck is it even doing this?

i finally get flashplayer to stop (no flashplayer process even showed running in the taskmanager details pane) — but basically i cold cocked the machine. it’s like pulling the plug. but on a laptop, that means removing the adapter cord, and also pulling out the battery.

then start it back up, is no longer playing the cached audio file. but i note there is no wifi, the card isn’t picking up anything. so i check the driver, the driver has error messages. so i reinstall the wifi driver, get it hooked up to the internet. then i start downloading and installing windows 7 updates — which there were a ton. went to restart it — and got a 90B fan error.

which this laptop normally ran its fan like a dang aircraft engine — noisiest thing you could ever imagine. so if anything, it needed a reduction in fan action! haha. but NO fan is never good.

there are tons of videos and articles on how you “fix” the error by cleaning the fan. that is false. it’s not an issue of a dirty fan, you just don’t get a stop on a fan from dust — unless some bright mind squirted oil onto it. and the reason those in video seem to get success from a clean, is they removed the hard drive and reattached it. or the windows 7 is booting up from a hibernation state, rather than a full boot. but it’s not from cleaning a fan, and as soon as they return the laptop to its owner, the fan error is going to reemerge. or that’s my guess.

i finally gave up on the system itself. as well as having obvious driver issues, the full backup system i had on the secondary hard drive — was no longer there. the user somehow deleted it — or it was hacked and deleted. since the drive itself still registered the space that the backup system image file took up — is likely it was deleted from a hack rather than from inside the system. but whatever the case, i had no backup available. and even the system recovery was stored inside the system image files. so there was nothing. no way to take it back to when it was working normally.

i installed ubuntu on the machine. this is why i know the fan 90B error is a firmware issue, not a hardware one. ubuntu ran on it beautifully. no problems whatsoever. powered down, restarted it. even ran some heavier things, and the fan kicked into high with no issues.

the problem is somewhere in the AMD drivers— but it’s in how when the AMD drivers load, they then trigger a fan-shutdown. as i said, i gave up on the system. so took the hard drive it was on, wiped it out, and installed a fresh copy of windows 7. all that was fine. i installed the chipset drivers. all fine. then i installed the original AMD drivers for the graphics chip — and bam. on restart, the 90B fan error happened again.

i took the hard drive out, replaced it with ubuntu — ubuntu would not boot correctly, had some disk errors. took that out — put the windows 7 hard drive back in — started up and NO fan error, but the graphics were running on the windows stock resolution values. so i’m going to assume the reason it didn’t not get the fan error, was because the AMD drivers did not engage.

which that shouldn’t have happened, i didn’t set it to do a safe boot. so i’m stepping back from this for awhile, to think on it. trying to research on it doesn’t help. this is a firmware issue. i tried removing the CMOS battery, to do a hard reset of the Bios. also set the Bios to its defaults. hp used an Insyde bios, and it’s pretty crummy. not a lot of options. and for the graphics controller, the machine has native intel AND ati (amd) graphics. which you can set it to run on a “switching” mode — where the ati kicks in for heavier graphics tasks. or you can set it to be constantly on the ati graphics. but you can’t set it to ignore the ati altogether and just use the intel built in graphics. that’s why it’s a bad bios.

the problem with the fan 90b error has something to do with the ati drivers WHEN they are loaded to the machine by a system. it triggers something (some kind of malware that got into the fan firmware–i’m guessing) — and then not only is there an error, but the fan loses its adaptive settings, and runs at the very low speed. so it’s not a “false” error message. there actually IS a problem with the fan. it’s just that the problem is in the motherboard rom … not the fan hardware itself. has to be. hardware does not miraculously fix itself and then work fine with ubuntu linux installed.

something or someone got to this machine and did a number on it. and with HP, you never know. they set things up so they can always remotely access your computer, and change it however they like. that can be a good thing for some users, when HP updates a bios remotely, for instance. but i don’t think it’s a good idea to have that large a backdoor built into any machine.

the answer to this HP laptop might be to just run Ubuntu on it, and forget windows. apparently the Linux system is immune to whatever malware is getting triggered by the loading of the AMD graphic drivers. of course, can’t know this for sure without running it for awhile on ubuntu.

the clean install i did of windows 7, and the graphics drivers i used were the original from HP — downloaded from HP and unpacked on the windows 7 system. pretty much no way for them to be corrupt, and so its something that’s triggered by the driver. system worked fine and with no fan issue, until i installed the AMD graphics driver. then on the restart, it showed the fan 90B error again. which of course by that point, i’m hitting my head. hard to know for sure…. so often when trouble shooting things like this, you think you have the answer. and then it does something else, just to prove you wrong.

but does seem to come down to the controller for the ATI graphics chip is conflicting with settings for the fan.

and often the ATI control center includes fan settings. i could try installing the graphics driver, ignoring the fan error — and toggling the fan settings on the ATI catalyst control center —- if this old a model has the settings for fan at all.

update: instead, tried installing a copy of Windows 8 — just to see what it does. it installs the drivers automatically, and i got the same fan error message at start up. so removed that hard drive, put the Ubuntu hard drive back in — and the fan worked. can hear it, though have to admit that even though it is running with Ubuntu, doesn’t exactly sound healthy.

i don’t want to get into taking it apart and cleaning or replacing the fan. is not worth it. and so far i still have no indication that cleaning or replacing will fix anything, since it works and has no fan error with Ubuntu running on it.

everyone knows that Ubuntu is a nice second system to have, but for most people it doesn’t do the job like with Windows. just because most of the software they are used to using is on Windows and not on Linux. makes it usable for someone that just wants to watch youtube or something.

update: took out the ubuntu hard drive (ubuntu worked the fan again). put the Windows 8 hard drive back in, fired it up — and no fan error. so it’s running with the Windows 8 ok now. but since i have no way to know why the fan error and stopped fan happened in the first place, i don’t know what might cause it again.

generally what you do in that case, is work to create the malfunction again. But i don’t know what started it. i know it’s a driver/firmware issue … if not entirely, at least partly. i know that the drivers that Ubuntu loads “fixes” it — which they generally install their own freeware drivers, rather than copyrighted ones. is still possible that the fan is just getting close to dying, and that triggers some early shutdown process in the Windows version of the drivers/firmware.

so now i have to run it and use it and see if the fan error happens again …

(i will add to this blog as i go along)

whole ghosts

no more unfinished stories, please!
finish the damn trilogy before you print book one

the number of unfinished stories i’m expected to carry
is crazy
this is NOT tv where put out chapters and episodes
this is not arabian nights where you must buy the next
day with a story untold…

reading is loading the cpu of the writer
into your own consciousness one line of code at a time

not finishing stories causes all these pieces
these fractured bits

it’s probably why so many are going insane these days

so knock it off

no one needs this

and rr martin, frack you
frack every piece of worm writer that
publishes unfinished work

i’m sick of it….. i’m sick of even the movies that go
on and on

just finish a damn tale for once
they lived happily ever after
the end

for some reason, trump keeps repeating over and over that there is no way to catch a hacker. which is a lie. the fbi caught the russians red-handed — while they were actively in the DNC servers. it wasn’t coming home and finding the house robbed— it was coming home and finding the robber standing in your living room.

it WAS NOT “we were hacked! now we have to find out who did it.” NO !!!! it was “we are BEING hacked right now! don’t scare them, we will set up new servers while we work – over several days…weeks! to trace where the hacking is coming from. then we will confirm that with agents on the ground at the locations. (info via Los Angeles Times)

this is not some movie, where the “actual” hacker “pretended” and so no one can know who it is ……… that’s not how it works and not how it goes down.

the incoming network call to the DNC computers was traced back through the relays. and while i think it was Die Hard that showed a hacker “faking” their relay — that’s not real-world science. it’s fiction. the trump “expertise” on hacking is from fiction!

so somebody tell the idiot-in-chief to get it right! before he makes an even bigger ass of himself in asian newspapers — where 90% of their populace know more about computers than he.

whole thing bothers me as an american, AND as a tech. they think we’re stupid enough as it is.

Saturday Sermon number 4 because i feel like today is Saturday

ha! that’s well put. chaos is the only answer to fractal repetition. the beauty of the untended garden. opposition is a difficult ground on which to place definition.

at one point, i took it all the way to the “big bang” of opposition creating the start of everything ordered in the universe. it didn’t work.

freedom must see beyond the cage of our own bilateral balancing act. the difference between a circle and a sphere? a linear that must be straight, otherwise is it only one part of a very large circle. the up and down of measured existence, even in time.

human interaction is not only messy, it must be messy. otherwise, the predictive nature calls forth machine, not man. that is where my hopes live. i bought a measuring cup yesterday. force myself to cook without one, for the most part. measurement is only as good as the consistency of the ingredients themselves. then are caught in requiring consistency. and then what is boredom? lol…

people trade in uncertainty for boredom. fear …. survival …. power. i light up a cigarette and reread my words. think about my need for the soap box and what that means. i know how to reach for freedom, how to not force a garden, how to leave the ordered state and simply enjoy life. it’s the little things. but they need room, and need to be as far away from despair as possible. that is one opposition that is worthwhile to maintain. recognize the roots of your despair. find where it lives. then go ok, that is the NOT.

i have sat in cells, pumped with drugs that eradicated my imagination. you don’t realize how dependent you are on that, until it is gone. until the moment in which you live, is the moment that is forever. until despair itself has no roots. what i found there was the emptiness of ordered existence at the mercy of others. once i comprehended that human beings will purposely work to keep something alive just to torture it … once i opened myself up to that realization. that depth. i knew that i myself could never hold on to anything as permanent. the flux and flow of life is the opposite of evil. chaos is the redemption that tells us fear and order make poor bedfellows.

look for what has no pattern until it has a pattern. then look at patterns. look at how anxiety drives us to require imagined predictability. and then be thankful to all the heavens, that life is everything that is not predictable, and more. the difference between a circle and a sphere? those things that test our imagination. after all, chaos might simply be another form of order. life might be the complete cage, where predictability reigns, and the only reason it’s not quantified is the inability of the mind to do so. i think about that. then i’m glad i’m not.

in some ways, reaching for more knowledge can be a path to greater despair, as attached to the “laws” of the reactive process surrounding us. when reactive processes can be a comfort – like the crowds dressing in warm coats at winter. there is an expectation, that it cycles and circles. that the opposite of cold will always be warm. but without that inner part of yourself, that can form its own reactive processes and go against all that is considered necessary. when you entertain the other paths, then the path you are on is a choice, not an obligation.

and the need for predictability is your own expression of love for others. to comfort expectations for the sake of calm. to be something that is considered non-threatening, and to hold off applying your own realizations for the moment that calls for them. which is sometimes never.

the quail have come onto my patio, looking for food and water. and they left. i find their calls comforting. the natural order of their existence that has a pattern to me, and yet i know that is more due to my ignorance than due to any innate repetition. i don’t speak quail.

life is too short. but it’s length is beside the point. what makes me happy, in this world of chaos and order, is that freedom is just a word for a concept much larger than any definition maps. the irony is that we have one word, and then spend lifetimes of trillions of words to describe the one. the irony is that we have dictionaries at all. the sharing of thought is fascinating for its forms, not for its content. we all live in the same reality, even if some theirs is special. so what is special? singular … original?

it’s the need for that, not the manifestation of its action. it’s the need for art, and the further exploration of the self. the ability of the self to survive. to take the moment. to pause in typing, and listen to the quail. to smile. to know — deep down inside — that there is maybe a God and maybe not a God. that order is something perceived, not necessarily something that actually manifests. that human understanding is always going to be limited. that freedom is not so much the dissolving of limits, but the mapping of where those limits are necessary.

number one, there is no such thing as limits for intelligence. you learn. you learn to learn more. the pathways in the brain grow. you exercise logic, you don’t create it. there are points in that journey, where despair hit me like a rock. i recall sitting in the bath tub, picturing all … all … as it spiraled to greater and back again. there was no freedom of the linear. only mistaken freedom. that was at the stage. once i exercised the mind beyond that realm of concept — i saw greater interactions that lead away from despair.

it’s like they say, that the in between of comprehension is what will allow insanity to bite you in the ass. how can you advise others to take your own “path” to enlightenment, when you know how many pits it contains? each has to find their own. i’m no closer to “correct” than a snail climbing a rock away from the rain. reactive states of being.

the important thing to realize, is that we can think alike. we can act alike. but it is the differences that save us from ourselves. it is the opposition of differing magnitudes. it is the fact that something pisses me the hell off, and you only see me — want the human being you care about to be “happy.” to focus on the joys, and leave that which can drag a mind down …be. i understand, and appreciate the degrees of love, the degrees of caring. my view is singular to my existence, just as yours is singular to your own. i even quantify “caring” as manifestations born out of perceived states.

chaos and order. circles and spheres. the imagination is a very rich playground. the artist is not a role, it’s a reaction. only fits a form, if that is the form you use.

i can imagine other worlds. mostly i wonder about a world of expression that is not limited to the lowest common denominator of the receiving end. where it all attaches, the male and female of “the plug.” the representation born through so many ‘inventions’ of man and his industry. the fascination. the fact that as adults, we still get mired in the investigation of our own body parts. the foundations and framework of initial comprehensions.

it’s why poetry says so much more, by saying less. it’s why we don’t need definitions for words. we need words that defy definition. it’s why the good in life is the unexpected. why i look at polka dots on a purse, and smile. why there is no right way to live. only a right way to live with others.

i sat in that cell, and faced the deepest horrors of human action. and that horror was not from expanding vision. it was from limiting the mind itself, to the mindset of others. to break free from that, is to challenge your own ability to love. to let some things go. to live not just for your own comfort, but in the awareness of what helps or harms. chaos and order, the way of law and the mapping of reactions to degrees of fractal that only implode on themselves into greater detail.

have to be able to let that go. feel the sunshine, know that life itself is a beauty that defies any categorization. all of science itself, only marches blithely onward to a perceived ideology of stasis. the wonder of it all, is that i know how ordered states absolve fear. the reason i don’t fear life, or death, or even what next year will bring for our country. why i do not fear, is because my mind moved beyond that. i had to place myself into a state of hope that ranges past any “faith” in man and the limits we impose on each other.

part of me wants to give that to others. part of me knows i never can. each has to do with their own culminations of joys and sorrow. i now my answer to those that like to perceive me as flawed, as crazy — my answer is to feel pity for the minds that are caught in perceptions of order imposed upon them by fear — fear generated and accepted into their own hearts. from others, from life that taught them that nothing is fair. that struggle is the antidote to emptiness.

i pity out of genuine understanding, have moved through that state to where i exist now. which is not a place of loneliness, though you could call it a reaction to that. it’s a place where i get that i’m not anything special in this world. that the world has to be special to me. that the question was NEVER “does God love me?” the question, is if i love God. how you show that, then — is how life turns on something more than what you can give and what you can get.

the concerns of rich and poor, wealthy and destitute. the search for meaning. life brings us to so many crossroads. often i think it is the INNS at those crossroads that matter, not the destinations that span out. that spell our choices. our justifications that are based solely on interpretations of pattern and laws that are merely abstract designs, in the first place.

the reason i write, is because it gives my thoughts someplace to live. i can take one detail to heart’s content. limited only by my own perception of how long any sane person would listen. how far any would follow on my questionable trains of thought. many times, we hope joy is that thing everyone finds, even if it means finding it out of innocence. i don’t believe in that. i don’t believe in protecting others from reality. years ago, i named this blog, “from an otherwise sane perspective.” what i place here is the crazy. what i keep unsaid is the sane.

when the world has decided that i embody a defect of “crazy” — then i will take that and make it look sane to you, and ask you why you think you are so different than me? why do you believe that my actions had no purpose? because they certainly have had their impact. where it goes, nobody knows. that’s the beauty.

that’s why my poetry is where you will find the decisions. the bump to myself, where i challenge even my deepest comprehensions according to their framework. we all have lives to live. the world has collectively decided to disregard mine as unimportant. so i made it important on a differnt level. i decided to write on this blog, and that only happened because someone formed wordpress. because someone followed the ‘norm’ and were good little citizens and started a business. how can i NOT appreciate that?

therefore i let it go. my ‘spot’ in this world doesn’t matter. my view of order or chaos, and the click of the typing as i work to slow things enough, to put them into a form that can be “shared.” just love it when someone says “thanks for sharing” …lol. sarcasm … being put through a mind for no use. nothing to show for the time spent. in some ways, with the title of this blog, i warned of that. at one point i removed the “from an” and made it “otherwise sane perspective.” the definition that is a word. the word that is Eileen. or me. whatever that happens to be at the moment.

life gives you lemons, and you make lemonade. well i stockpiled the dumb things, and there’s a lot of juice to be made. life is too short. art is forever. we were all “given” the ambitions that drive and motivate from one day to the next. but in my understanding, people only appear to be ‘sheep’ when you do not know them. you get beyond the surface, and the details are always there.

that is why i don’t despair, over the state of man, or his search or denial … why i let the garden grow with both its chaos, and its order. it’s easy to quantify reaction. not so easy to multiply that by the diverse nature of man himself.

i have other memories, besides the cell where i met reality. the punishment i got for being “different.” in contrast, i have the memory of gripping a boogie board, waiting in the ocean for a wave. waiting for the “perfect” wave — judging what is good. what won’t work. sometimes the good ones get past you. but the JOY of that memory, is not in the riding the wave part. the joy is in the bobbing in the ocean, the wait that caused me to slow down. to LOOK at the world. to see the beauty and weep … just weep for every single thing that is given.

every single moment that gives me gratitude for the next. no, i don’t think humans need to order much more of the world into predictable little snippets. i want to set them free. i want them to see that it isn’t crazy, if you have a reason.

i will go first, for survival. but sacrifice is what you do, when love leaves and you ask yourself where it went. painful matters of the spirit are only ghosts, the manifestation that just needs a good wind to blow it out and away. and physical is different. discomfort, and the far reaching power of medicine, and the industries that tell us “if you don’t have your health, you have nothing!” and then they call challenges of the spirit, “mental health.” all kinds of manipulation, with all the insults to even the average intelligence.

i think about that, and the work to move people into states of behavior that will benefit the self. in so many ways, it is the inescapable nature of man. then the only question becomes, who are you dealing with? friend or foe?

at some point in the future, i imagine how the code of pattern i have woven into every word placed here, will be cracked. that the message is not the words and their definition, the message is their music. i look at the future as the friend. i look at hope as the companion necessary for my existence. whether it be in a cell, or on an ocean. you all have a really good new years, though i’m not sure of the person that put us on this merry go round in the first place. it’s a dead end into despair. but celebration has its own divinity in the scope of things. i can appreciate that. i also know that every day is another day for one like me. i fear boredom more than i fear the wrong designs that lead to multiple cases of despair. i want surprises, i want the polka dots on a purse. what i never want is your pity.

what i never want, is scorn that determines i was ‘born bad’ — what can you do? NO ONE IS BORN BAD. GOD DON”T MAKE JUNK. i can see that. i don’t care if you can see that or not.

when i walk to the store, i don’t want pity from those who drive. i don’t want them believing that i am not capable of changing my own state of existence, because “been there, done that.” it’s only exploration if the path you forge is new! i don’t want pity for the crap i’ve undergone in the past. that’s not my goal. go feel sorry for the people selling barbie dolls at the swap meet. but don’t feel sorry for me. i am always where i need to be, and what i want from you is to change the crap that’s being dished out, that is being called ‘normal’ with no thought to the consequences of collective action. “sorry” doesn’t heal someone like me. what heals, is seeing real changes that impact lives for the better.

that’s why i side with the left, and going forward, not going backward. sometimes the death of a master is freedom. if God oppresses you, then killing “God” frees you. “been there, done that,” too. i want to see you smile at the birds — not be carefree like them. because there’s no such thing as carefree.

and circles are for the birds. boredom is for sissies. i never did learn to speak quail, but in my defense there were no quail where i grew up, and so i understand seagull speak, instead. a plaintive bird, the seagull. grey when young, white when they grow old and greedy. they are both brave, and beautiful. i know i am no beauty. i’m not trying to be beautiful, i’m trying to find what looks beautiful to ME. the woman who would watch me stop and admire her roses … who would come outside with a pair of clippers, and cut some and hand them to me. see, THAT was beautiful. it needed no words. a gesture of good faith. friend or foe?

my best achievement is when i shut up, and listen. but when all i did was listen, you all decided i had nothing to say.