The Internet is Open and Free and You Can Find Cool Video Games on It

So, I'm goofing around on the Internet, as usual, and I stumble on this site called Kongregate. Basically, folks create video games and then post them to the site, anything from one-man indies to big studios, and anyone can get on there and play them; and you can win awards, earn points, all for just the fun of it. I think it is amazing we have this space where people can share their creativity. I certainly hope the Internet remains open and free, and not controlled.

A little bit of a departure from what I usually post on this blog, I wanted to share with you a very fun game from Kongregate. There are instruction in the game. The basics are: Put your cursor on robots and left-click on the mouse to attack the robots; the ground sinks and bombs and robots destroy the ground, and if you thus fall in the water, you lose a life. In-between rounds, you can purchase, with what you've earned from playing the game, special defenses and attacks.

So, here is this entertaining game.



Play free games at Kongregate

Listening

It is sometimes amazing to me how almost impossible it is to convey things to people, primarily because of their inability to listen which is another way of saying their complete self-absorption. The so-called self is a bundle of ideas which act as a barrier. It's full of identifications and doctrine, and is a distraction from real attention. But what it means in daily life, in terms of what I said at the outset, is that people don't listen. This I've seen since I was a child. It's bad when it's your parent, some of you know this. But it's even worse when it's a whole town. Eventually, you stop talking. They claim they really want you to tell them something, really want to know what's on your mind; talk and find out. It aint so. Even worse for someone like me who won't keep it shallow and simplistic. The irony is, for those who have their identity wrapped up in this town, they really don't want to hear you criticize the town. They'll even fool themselves into thinking the facts you state aren't true. But I moved away for awhile, which just confirmed what I was already thinking about this town: That there are other places where the people are not uptight (by that I mean not prejudice and pretentious) and they don't pay you shit wages. Of course, I'm usually talking to people who have advantages in this town, of course they like it. Again, self-absorption. Hint: Other people exist.

Coercion with a Smile

They're friendly enough, I guess. Underneath the down-home exterior is the "what will they think of you if you say that, or do that, or think like that?" lurking, lurking.

There's a sense of control and violence, a sense of the Puritans with mullets and an even worse fashion sense. A town at least 10 or 20 years behind the times, all the time. It's where I live in the western US, in a town full of desperately-wanting-to-be-something-but-bland-like-Wonder-bread folk.

And they don't listen anyway.

It wouldn't matter if you did speak your very different kind of mind, they couldn't wrap their small minds around it. They think narrowly, in fragments, unable to see the whole thing or the big picture; but they're always certain they're open-minded.

It's feudal America, stuck in time. A dusty valley where the blistering heat gets trapped in the summer, and pollen, smoke and mold suffocate you while you are already choking on their pretense and hypocrisy.

Watch out who you look at. Watch out what you like.

Men are all predators, they're sure. And women are all crazy.

And don't expect to get your fill. Just expect to starve. They throw you crumbs and can't stand your lack of gratitude; all the while keeping the loaf stashed away and never on your table. They're not sure you should have the table.

They're serving up coercion, with a smile.

Pretentious Little Town

I live in a little college town on the West Coast of the US. The population is around 100,000, give or take. Lots of people in outlying areas, in-town population closer to 60, 000 to 80,000, I 'd guess. But the town has a homogenous, stuffy, small-town feel. I kid you not.

They pretend to be okay with everybody, but they really don't like outsiders; even if you're an outsider who's lived here 30 years. I know.

And I'll tell you what I mean.

One of the common proclamations here, when someone is having a fit and caught off their guard, is to talk about deporting someone or shipping them off to where they came from.

The sentiment is obvious. Some people belong here and some don't. If your background is somewhere from a distant country, well you certainly don't belong here.

In fact, this town is somewhat famous for having killed some and chased off the rest of a Chinese community that tried to settle here back in the 1800s. They really wanted to keep it all in the family. Kind of like Archie Bunker.

What you hear is a lot of rhetoric about care and love. On the one side, you have the conservative traditionalists, with the value they place on family things, and making families, and a yada yada. Then you have the liberals, who love freedom and equality and care and love. And then you have what they both are: Hypocrites.

They like their cliques, their divisions, their identities, the local celebrity. They like to tell you to work hard, no matter what it entails, they don't mind the homelessness and low-pay demeaning jobs. What they don't like is someone they can't control, someone who for all intents and purposes is an outsider.

So, they control the thought, talk, and action of the people here; with their pressure, looks, talk, alienation, and the list goes on. It seems subtle. Not sure it is.

I remember I moved away for awhile, to another town a few hundred miles away, which had a significant Latino and Asian population; I remember feeling the diversity and openness in the air. I walked into a situation and felt like they expected me, like I was an uncle coming to visit: The kids wanting to know what I thought they should do, the girls liking me, and no one thought I was suspect. There were other problems living in that town, but I miss those aspects of it that made me feel at home.

Not so in this town I am now living in; I've lived here, altogether, around 30 years, and the feeling has always been the same. Watch what you say, watch what you do, watch what you think: Because really you are just a visitor.

Figuring Us Out

The beauty of understanding your mind is that you understand people's minds. You can see it coming and you know what they're up to. You can't be touched.

Understanding the Workings of the Mind

I'm always a little astounded that many people don't want to figure out the workings of their own minds. It is one of the most amazing things to listen, to watch what the mind does. And since I was a child, I questioned, wondered what it was that was imposed on me, wondered about the silly identifications imposed and the dumb notions that floated in the environment. I might have been too young to articulate or fully understand everything, but I thought most things were weird and not quite right.

I sit alone sometimes working on it, and I'm shocked most people don't do it too. They escape, have fantasies, look the other way, but don't want to take what's in their hands and disassemble it and figure out its parts, then understand its whole mechanism.

Too bad, because it's a beautiful thing.

Richard Pryor and Difficult People

In one of Richard Pryor's concert movies, he's dealing with a heckler that is relentless; finally, he starts in on her, firing a few good shots, and says, "Some people just want you to get nasty with them."

Well, turns out Richard was very correct. And anyone who's dealt with abusive, difficult, domineering people knows that getting aggressive, straight-forward and mean with them often works. They pause and take notice, even have regard for you. And, you could say, as Richard implied, they had it coming.

I go to the pharmacy the other day and discover that my mother's blood pressure med is not there; the pharmacy tells me it has no refills on it. Well, you know, it's a blood pressure med. My understanding is that it's dangerous to stop taking the med abruptly. I ask the clerk if they can do something or does the doctor; she says the doctor.

So, today I call the doctor's office. I explain to the receptionist the deal, she says I have to make an appointment. "AN APPOINTMENT FOR WHAT?!" I said rather not-calmly. "Well, you have to..." I interrupt her summarily. "Either refill the prescription or not!" Again, not-calmly. I hang up.

I message my sister and let her know we get to find out what happens if our mother goes off of her blood pressure med abruptly.

The doctor's office calls me back, asks me about the med, what pharmacy, and tells me they'll look into it. As I am writing, the pharmacy calls, recording, something about them calling us when the prescription is ready.

Well, I think you get the gist.

Religion, Bigotry, Nationalism, the Mind, and Inquiry

I noticed on my Facebook, and other places, it's common for people to attack Christians. I've primarily steered away from doing this sort of thing, but I do it accidentally sometimes when I post something about the workings of the mind. I am very interested in the workings of the mind, ever since I was young, because if you don't understand the mind then you don't understand anything; and I've always been curious about things imposed on me, psychologically, physically, and otherwise.

But to single out Christians, to me, is misguided. Anyone with an ideology and identity is confused and a bigot, prejudice. Nationalism and patriotism, and all ideologies and identifications and labels, is bigotry in disguise. So, anyone operating from these structures are doing the same thing; increasing the ego and attacking people, dividing people, subjugating people. It is violence.

I've known some good Christian folks. Many of them are much more caring than the pretentious liberals who pretend to care; pretend to care according to ideology but not action.

In the town I live in, it is common for people to separate into cliques; the wanna-be liberals in one corner, the conservative traditionalists in the other corner. And they all have the parameters of discussion, actions, and thought sewn up. They deride in subtle and gross ways, keeping you in check if you are different. I've made it my business to expose these frauds; at least, to myself.

Almost everything I post on the Internet is related to the workings of the mind; an understanding of it in a whole way, and not just this one particular way, not in a fragmentary way.

But the habit of most people is to fragment, see things from an identity full of ideas of I am and who you are.

And while the locals are claiming they care and believe in freedom while doing otherwise, imposing structure and restriction and relegating the average person to the status of slave, believing in the structure of social class, I'm sitting back and observing their hypocrisy.

God bless.

With Disruption Comes Clear Perception and Action

This is probably the most honest blog post I've made on Nathan's Place. It's about me, the town I've lived in for about 30 years, and the problem I have with living here.

What spurred this action, this post, was an incident on Facebook. I posted a rather inflammatory political image which was simply this, though I paraphrase: Nationalism leads to terror, to coercion, to corruption.

It was interpreted by an old friend that what I said was against the American military. Well, it wasn't specifically against the US military, but it was a statement about patriotism and military action.

I was unfriended.

So, here's the main point. All of the time I've lived in this town, I've been quiet, reserved, went along with things. I've heard from the bigots, the patriots, the hypocritical and pretentious liberals, and the down-home, backward traditional Americans. I never agreed with anything they said. But I know the consequences of speaking out, or even just saying what I feel and think. I know that their "freedom" is selective, it depends on who you are and what you have to say and what you think and feel. I know they preach freedom but don't apply it to everyone. I know that if I said what I feel at any time, I'd be shut down, alienated, aggressively put in my place. I'd have to sit like a good little boy. So, I cut out the middle man and just stayed quiet.

I also always knew I couldn't just do whatever I want. I couldn't look at who I want or talk to whoever I want and I'd have to get used to it. The uptight feminist and the backward traditionalist would both keep me in line.

So, the incident online brought all that home to me. It was a local friend, behaving just like a local.

I've left this town several times, always to come back; and come back to endure. Each time, it seems there's left over business. And today I discovered what that left-over business is. It is time to end that abusive relationship, and leave for good.

Shrouded in Secrecy: Fast Food Is Not

 [This is another failure from another site, one that didn't fit the bill. Woo-hoo!]

Fast Food and Life

A lot of things are "shrouded in secrecy". But one thing we can depend on and will never be shrouded in secrecy is greasy and salty food that's relatively cheap and promptly served. Let's explore this topic!!!

Shrouded in Grease and Salt

It's what we love

It's a pretty often used and well-known phrase, and I think we all know what it means: It means we don't know about it, but really want to know about it or maybe don't at all want to know about it. So, for instance, some government agencies are "shrouded in secrecy": These include, but are not limited to: The CIA, The FBI, The NSA, and even maybe NASA sometimes; especially when you are considering aliens from outer space.

However, without digging too much, and it might be instructive, we can understand the meaning of this phrase "shrouded in secrecy" by knowing what is not shrouded in secrecy. I give you here something that I think you might hesitatingly agree is not shrouded in secrecy: Fast Food.

We know what it is: Food...that is fast. We also know that its main contents are greasy animal fat and salt; also, in some cases, a lot of refined sugar. Why not? You only live once, and if you have to die, why not die slowly but surely.

Here's one you might have thought of, and think it's shrouded in secrecy: Ice Cream topped with bacon! Sounds good, don't it?

But who wants to be fancy? Why not good old fashion slapped together sloppily fun-filled bacon cheese burgers?! Check this out!

I know what you're thinking: Plenty of fat and bacon, not enough sugar. You've got to sacrifice sometimes for what you love.

But it's not just that. We must learn to accept all forms of food, no matter what it does to the arteries, liver, kidneys, heart, eyesight, erections, or the capacity to walk. Also, they need to make those booths at the fast food restaurants bigger, I can barely fit.

But, while we're talking about it, doesn't this look good?

Those burgers have onions, so I'm pretty sure they are good for you. Little known fact: Onions kill fat and salt. Onions entirely counteract any unhealthy elements in your food.

So, I know you prefer to dip you french fries in your chocolate milk shake, but periodically consider just mixing your fried potatoes directly into your ice cream; it will save a lot of time and energy and your precious labor to not have to dip each fry or hand-full of fries into your milkshakes. Think about it. It's just smart.

Finally, I would like to state that it is important that though many things are shrouded in secrecy, we should be grateful that we have fast food which is all out in the open.

Thank you, and God bless.

It's a coronary trinity.

But it's what we know and love. Dip your fries!

 

Seating in fast food restaurants is getting smaller and smaller

This guy can barely fit into the seat

This could do damage to your belly with the table digging into your mounds of flesh.

3 Non-Secrets of the Fast Food Industry

Things To Remember

• Seating In Fast Food Restaurants Is Getting Smaller
• Onions Kill Greasy Fat and Salt and Other So-called "Unhealthy" Elements In Food
• When a Dish Lacks Refined Sugar, Fatty Bacon Can Be Used As a Substitute
  

Food Choices!

You decide

Which is better?

1. Dipping fries in your milkshake
2. A stack of ten beef patties smothered in cheese and mayonaisse on a white bread bun
3. Rat poison

Work Experience and What It Really Is

[Yet another installment of the failures, the pieces that didn't make it on other sites.]

Yes, I know, you want me to tell you how to prepare for a job interview, the right things to say, and then, after you're done doing that begging and scraping, how to keep that wonderful job; how to get along with the co-workers, how to impress the boss, and how to enjoy the day in and day out, up in the morning, off to the office, sitting in the cubicle or sweating in the field. Sorry, can't do it.
I'd rather tell you what's really going to happen, or at least what's you'll notice if you're conscious. Yep, by that I mean awake and aware of what they're really doing to you and what you're subjecting yourself to. Here goes nothin'!

Pennies of What They're Paid

Well, on my main job, the one I worked for many years, in the file I found, in the file that I was in fact in charge of, it showed what the company was getting paid for my work. See, I helped people with disabilities integrate into the community; I usually had about three clients at a time that I worked with; well, as it turns out, the company was paid anywhere between 30 and 50 dollars an hour for each client. I had three clients, which means the company got paid anywhere between 90 and 150 dollars an hour for my work. Several hours a day with the clients, that adds up. What did I get paid for my work? At the time I left, I was getting paid $8.50 an hour. Understand? That's a fraction of a percent of what they made off of my work. Sound right to you? And it's not like it was easy work; they expected you to work without breaks, being abused by clients (not to mention co-workers), being in charge of clients' safety in the community, teaching them skills for integration into the community, personal care, and case management. Yes, that's right: Besides teaching and being direct care staff, you were also expected to do the work of a case manager: Write plans for the client in program, keep track of progress, document progress and activities, write incident reports, and on and on. Case managers, you should know, usually get paid much more than $8.50 an hour; more like $20 an hour. Put it this way: They won't pay you what your time, energy and life is worth. Not even close. Even if they had paid me $15 an hour, it still would have hardly put a dent in their profits. And I would have not got burned out quite so fast.

Source: By Palmer, J. A. -- Photographer [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Policy and Paperwork

You know, the things you have to follow and do or else you'll get fired. The things that have nothing really to do with your job, but are meant to keep you in line and keep the books for the company so they can continue to make money. It's what's required for them to get funding, and has to do with what someone, who is never out in the field, decides is the way to do things; they sit in an office and dream about what you're supposed to do, then put it down on paper for you to follow and force you to do the paperwork that proves the company is doing it. It's nonsense. Those bureaucrats making policy don't know what you need to do or what you go through, and the paperwork they force you to do is for them and their bank account. Anyone interested in real life and who doesn't want to be a drone can't stand this paper pushing assembly line automaton nonsense.

It's Up To You

So, it's up to you if you like being a machine and doing what you're programmed to do and getting paid a fraction of what the company makes in profit while they lie to you about it and do everything to make you fall in line with what makes them money; if you enjoy having the threat of being fired for any minor act of insubordination looming over your head, while at the same time you struggle to pay rent and buy groceries, and you're in debt for medical bills for the treatment your getting for high blood pressure which is the direct result of stress from the job; if it's cool with you, getting up when you're exhausted and putting in another day to make someone else live way better than you: Well, then go for it; then you can live day in and day out, stuck in a rut and afraid to move half an inch in any direction that might jeopardize your position as drone worker at the Decepticon, Inc. Corporation (DIC). Someone will say, "You're lucky to have a job"; yeah, like a slave is lucky that his master let's him sleep in the barn and puts slop in his trough, lucky to have the constant pressure that breaks down brain and body, only looking forward to vacations and the weekend, the "thank God it's Fridays" and the temporary relief and escape when you can use accumulated vacation time, the token "charity" they use to keep you from going straight out Postal. To each his own.

 
On the frontline Anarchists at work

 
Sabotage and striking on the job Louis Adamic 1931, libcom.org

The Fleeting and Meaningless Advent of Gunga Dam

[This is another installment of my failures: The pieces I did on another site(s)that didn't quite cut it. Granted, I didn't try hard to make it work. But, anyway, here goes.]

 

Who He Is

He was big, hairy, always wet with perspiration, high-strung and hungry, and no one knew what to do about him. Cumbersome and vicious, he thrashed at the snack table, eating up everything in reach, and everything was in reach.
On-lookers were horrified, but he was oblivious. He had an appetite both for consuming and destruction; a horrible combination of greed and waste; using up everything in sight, man or object, and tossing them aside when his arrogance got its fill.

What To Do

I certainly wasn't sure what to do. Petrified, I could do nothing but observe him, hoping to get a clue as to what he was, where he came from and what he was up to. The most noticeable feature of this monster was the dim light in his eyes, a terrifying feature that added to the horror we were experiencing. My mother had entered the room, and quickly grabbed me and threw me behind her.

Conclusion

I didn't know what to expect. She ran to an end table, opened the drawer to get the flashlight. She shot light into the eyes of the Behemoth, which he immediately retracted from as he cowered and hid his face with his gnarled hands. She screamed out a gut wrenching cry and chased him out the door, flashlight in hand, as he fled in fear.

She turned to me and said, "See, son, it's good to know a second language."

Reddit is About as Interesting as Junior High

Just getting it off my chest.

I mean the site has interesting posts, of course, but not interesting enough to spend a lot of time on there. Then they have their goon squad of people who have nothing better to do than keep track of what's posted on Reddit waiting to pounce on you if you post something that's already been posted a few times; I mean, a few times is what they count as too much. Then they got this thing where they secretly ban you; you keep your account but no one can see your posts.

Of course, if you get on there and point out their mobbing, their equivalent-to-getting-harassed-at-work and high school bullying tactics, then you'll get bullied even more. It's like the non-conformist conformists; the ones who try so hard to be different, yet they are just part of the different clique. Phoney. Lame. A nerd bully is still a bully. A punker conformist is still a conformist.

So, what do I do about it. Nothing. Keep my account there which I never use.

More into trying to find a decent web host and affiliate ad program. Plus, getting together what I want in terms of a new blog/website. Got to organize and write a few things up; been working on it, taking down notes. Guess I'm used to that kind of work. Been through school, studied martial arts, write often, go into dialogue with smart people. I'm on it.

Truth for the Day

"Playing it safe is the most popular way to fail." [Elliot Smith]

I think it's about time to get this party started.

Good Cop, Bad Cop

I've decided to start posting my failures. Well, the pieces that I had on revenue-sharing freelance writers sites that couldn't quite cut it. But I consider them good pieces. This one I rather like.

 

Introductions

Well, over there to the right is a picture of the guy who played Serpico in the TV series, not Al Pacino who played him in the movie. Really, it's irrelevant, because I'm not talkin' 'bout a good cop bringin' down the bad cops; I'm talkin' 'bout that old game: Good cop, Bad cop. I'm sure you're familiar with it: One guy's harsh and abusive and the other one's the good one, keepin' it down; it's all an effort to sway you in some way, get you all flustered to comply. So, I'm here to tell you there's variations on that theme; I'm fixin' to let you know about Good Cop, Bad Cop; Good Cop, Good Cop; and Bad Cop, Bad Cop. Here goes, 'migo.

Good Cop, Bad Cop

This is pretty standard. You know, one's aggressive and intimidating, the other one's trynna keep it cool, reassuring you even. This one's happened to me at least a couple times in real life. Once on a job. Typical of the job, both my bosses were terribly under-qualified in the brains departments. One of them was real stern, talkin' 'bout how I need to step it up, step to the plate more, blah-blah, blah-zay blah-zay, lah-dee-dah-dee; and the other one kept leavin' the room politely like, "Oh, sorry Nater, be right back." Then he'd come back and switch it too, stare at me silently when I talked, then turn to his partner, then look back at me, overly serious like somethin' I said wasn't quite right. Why they needed two people for little ol' me, I don't know. Blah-zay, blah-zay.

Then the other time, more recent, we had the bug fumigators over here at the apartments. Again, for some reason needed to be two people to talk to me(why are they scared?); the two resident managers, they're a couple, come to my door, tell me how I got to get everything out of the closets, out of the cupboards, into the middle of the floor, out of the drawers; and we had to have it done a week ahead of time. So, wer gon to have to spend days and weeks laborin' and stressin' and living in a pile of silverware and bottle caps, until bug man comes to blast the roaches. Well, one of them then says, all serious as a whipper snapper can get, that they gonna have to give us a three day notice if we don't get it all done before time. Of course my instinct is to knock the young buck over backwards to his crusty grandma's denture pan. I refrain. Plus, I digress. Then his girlfriend says, all nice and pretty-like, "Oh, but that's just so you get it done!"

Well, all I can say is Good Cop, Bad Cop don't work. That flip tickles me. Don't worry none.

 

Good Cop, Good Cop

Okay, so you know somethin's wrong. You don't know them, but they're both aggressively nice. Plus, they want to know all about you, and nobody ever wants to know all about you. They are checkin' you out, for sure. This is typically a couple of connivin' coworkers, teaming up to figure out the new guy. Soon, you will see the sweetness get spoiled and you're in for days, weeks, years of harassment and abuse. Beware, the Good Cop, Good Cop.

 

Bad Cop, Bad Cop

Well, clearly this is the worst of them all. And I've experienced this version from real life, actual cops. These are the ones that keep accusing you of things, stopped you for no reason, abusing you, and smirking at each other about it, because evidently it's fun and entertaining. Of course, they do more than that at other times and once in awhile it gets some news headlines. They are quite the team. If at all possible, avoid them like the plaque.

What's My Point?

The point is, watch out for these. I've seen 'em and so will you. Or maybe you have, so then you know exactly what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Be safe out there.

Anarchy Works

What the H is Microdata?

By Vishraval (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Not a question I ever would have thought I'd ask.

Well, I'm on a forum at a revenue-sharing site on which I write, and someone is talking about micro-data. Yes, I know. I should have Googled it. But instead I use my own brain and somehow am able to decipher the term and figure it means there's code underneath elements on a web page. So, I inquire a bit more about that on the forum. Someone chastises me a little by telling me this evidently obvious fact was already stated, that micro-data is code in page elements or features.

Let me tell you. I've practiced Karate since the 80s, taught it since the 90s, and I would never dream of teaching it by throwing out terms without explaining what they mean. Go figure.

Anyway, I'm still learning the technical stuff about writing online, I've been writing online for about 9 months; as long as you don't count micro-blogging. I've learned that SEO is Search Engine Optimization and that SERP is Search Engine Results Page; I've learned the Google search engine has crawlers that might or might not crawl things on your page and might or might not index your page.

And I've found how important all this is: You want people to see your stuff, you got to know about or have tools for SEO. And micro-data is important.

Okay. I'm done.

American Culture and What I Like About It

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/

I spend a lot of time criticizing America. I think I'd compare my mentality about America to how a perceptive child behaves in a crazy family: Your brother's a bully, your sister is ditzy, your Mom's unaware, and your Dad's a perverted drunk. The smart kid has to criticize; to survive and because he can't help it. Who knows? Maybe they'll get the message.

However, there's some things I like about American culture.

First, this notion that diversity is good. This idea that we ought to have people from different countries, different backgrounds, different cultures come over here and live and add to the mix. Makes things more interesting and creates an innovative and progressive environment. I like it.

Second, this notion of being adventurous. It's known as the pioneer spirit. You get a good idea, get yourself in gear and go on the venture. Take a risk, see if it works. Don't think too much about it, just take the leap. I like it. Seth Godin, he's a guy who started a popular revenue sharing website for writers called Squidoo, writes about this kind of spirit in his blog. I've subscribed to his blog because he's got it right. Don't wait, don't follow, jump out there and do it. Love that!

And why not? Whatever you want to do, what you love to do, what ever inspiration you have, follow through with it.

This is why I love the Internet too. So many opportunities, so much need for good content, different ideas, innovations, so much room for creativity and expression.

So, here's to America. You aint half bad.