Day 1 of abe kobo Ex.

freewrite:

The long and winding road. The beginning of the end. There is something there which is no longer me when I end up talking about it in the dark; the secrets which go beyond the dark. The end of darkeness and the beginning of the light. There is a mathematical tipping point I’m sure. There is nothing wrong with the feeling that the words that I write are altogether ineffectual. They have no meaning. They have style. That’s for sure. They sure do have style. The type of style they have is not of any interest to people of this world. Perhaps that’s because I’m not writing this for people. I’m writing this for the future tthere’s al lot of people that are involved very heavily in the interstice of justie between the right and the wrong. The intertice, the mathematical judgement call where rounding errors and shaving data are forgiven because there’s a point to be driven in by the data. Data is ever so slowly marginalized in favor of a desirous conclusion.

I begin by telling of a fire which consumed the pornographic theatre in 2008. Hanging on a thread of brain matter flesh which was assaulted by hormonal imbalance, drug and alcohol abuse daily a man with a a cat fetish murdered 13 fellow depraved inmates of the human race. Earlier that night his wife had joked about the Parmesean cheese she saw on his shirt shoulders, in reference to his chronic dandruff problem. That was it. He went into the kitchen, found a silver crystal bowl holder, approached her from behind and slammed the pointy end through her head’s temple and into her brain cavity--exposing a pink viscous muck…undisturbed in laces at first--then interrupted in spurting black convulsive attacks of blood-shots.

Kobo Again

How to live a Post-political life.
Politics cannotes divisiveness and division of groups into polar spheres or polemics. In this way politics is a large scale representation of the rights of the individual up and over that of the whole of humanity. How is this defeated? Does morality provide us with a shematic for overcoming the bastion of individuality? No. Morality is fallible, and subjective. A correct morality has never and will never exist. In this sense, I agree in spirit with my predessesors including Nitzche, and wholly disagree with the philosophy espoused by Emanuel Kant and his modern counterparts. I have several proofs of this hypothesis, and though I feel it's a wasted effort I shall provide some of these proofs in the passages to follow:--

Why is this important

The Red Head

The bombadier seat of a trainer aircraft presents itself to me on a rainy day. Given tours of these wonderful machines I suppose. A man in a business suit goes up a couple of extra steps to the pilot's seat. In the bombadier cockpit there's a mini T.V. screen and two poles to direct the bombs with gentile taps to go off in different directions. Semi-smart bombs. Another little screen can be made to look out the front, through the use of tiny cameras--however, it is lit up only with a rudimentary blue and white doplar radar screen. A storm is coming.

A column of rainclouds travels up to me from the south, and I hear rumors of my friend's presence, on the automobile highway, amid the blowing grass and occasional blip of rain. His house in the mountains is beautiful and I don't want to get too attached. A redhead asks me about fliers that I'd been passing out for the military in hopes of getting drafted into the elite air-force. The China conflict is coming and there is less than a wing of F-22's. What a beautiful girl, what a beautiful storm--she asks me like the wind, "do you think it will work this time?" as she sits above me. No words.