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Showing posts with label nuclear watershed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuclear watershed. Show all posts

Sunday, June 7

Clouds on \Tilt: the mysteries of « beneath the jetstream » [photoblog]

This is clouds on tilt.

These are clouds on tilt.

This is standard marine layer, with the morning summer sun, overhead, to the east, of the off-shore South Bay inland and San Gabriel Valley regions. 

The mysteries of the shortwave radio frequency bandlengths of government-issued private bands, proprietary bands, and public bands of the broadcasting and radio wavelengths bandwidths sometimes feature what seems to be unnaturally-developed cloudSphere, in the day and age of that the surveillance state is long bygone of the marvels and wonderment of the youth culture, here in America. 

Conceivably, under a high-energetic ionosphere sector of sky space, such as the jetstream of landing-staging of planes that are headed for Los Angeles International Airport, otherwise known as LAX, amidst what establishes itself over Air Traffic Control messaging, of the usable radio frequency broadcast bandwidths, the crisis response apparatus, of the remote-sensing and emergency broadcast systems are relentless features of human perceptual experience, devices present, for augmenting the transmitted signals, or not. 

A sober-minded person, here, of a generally organic basis of placement in society, being conceivably generally "good" and law-abiding in nature, is perhaps commonly privy to establishments of outlier identities having been driven to psychosis, whether autonomously, or by design, given the signal-to-noise ratio of becoming cognizant of that actual intervention measures, of the atténding law enforcement and surveillance intelligence partiments, of dispatch measures, have taken to estabishing recognizance and awareness on the ground, in whatever delineation of quadrants of shortwave frequency bandwidth, of the locales, given that the budget and personnel constraints are suitably met. 

Here, I was recalling, and personally attending to: some antisocial personality flare-ups of some unfriendly developments, both at home, and that which may have been seeking to follow me home; parallel by the vile parasitic onslaught that is apparently clothing-scabies; of which I've been largely staying on top of, in dominating the invasive species. (I thought that they were originally ticks, but a doctor suggested that they are, in fact, scabies. 

Monday, May 25

Contributing user analytics to improve web browsing experiences through engaging with advertisers and developers.

Maybe you've noticed it, here and there, at some point, in the past: while browsing the web, a strangely relevant facet of your recent life and goings-on, in the world, are suddenly brought back in to your forefront through an ad banner, from out of the periphery of pursuing web-browsing stuff. 

I've been there. I'd believe that many people could relate. Perhaps, at some point, the accuracy of the advertisement that caught your attention was too much to bear, and you switched your account and advertising opt-in settings for advertisement content and context, and you shut them all off, in a slight panic. 

While the intricacies of just how these things play out, in the world of advertising agencies, and development, I'd say that a more rational perspective is that we live in a world, where engaging with the retail sector has been one of our favored pasttimes, at least, on some occasions. It stands to consider that the retailers appreciate our patronage of their operation, and, like many self-starting entrepreneurs, we'd established some slight nuances of connectivity, just slightly more up, on the threshold of friendliness, as opposed to professionalism, which is expected of retail operations. 

Nowadays, with so many businesses still shuttered, from the public health crisis still abound, it makes me wonder what caused them to perhaps fail, permanently, or what's holding them together, for such a long stretch of the imagination. I had always lived a month-to-month sort of lifestyle, in my entrepeurial endeavors. 

Now, with that I feed the birds, on such a regular basis, keeping in mind that the pigeon is the "homeless person's pet," or so, it goes, I have a keepsake token of opportunity to say that I could see myself doing what I'm doing now, far in to the future, and I'd still have my bird-feeding endeavors as a daily to-do, for my stability's sake, and that I'm doing something that returns fruits to my labors, given that little Mr. Sparrow, of the Grand Park area, has taken a fondness to me, undoubtedly for his family's sake, for recognizing that I'm the one who feeds him the sweet treats, most of the time. He just, earlier in the morning, actually once again visited me. I think he's hanging out on the cellular service delivery antenna. It's a serene little soiree of common fare, out here. Me and the birds. 

In a similar manner, our user identities and facets of our online behavior and habits must be similarly valuable to advertising agencies, who, in this day and age, of a hard sell, for advertisers, facing uncertain economic conditions and social cudtoms, themselves, now coming in to question; particularly in an area such that I live in; yet, with internet data service being patched through, and provided for us, even our autonomy of assuming that we're « somewhere, or other », being put to question. 

My service regularly reports that my location is in Chicago, Illinois, and Texas. I get news articles lobbed at me, from those locations, in many apps and feeds I visit. 

Somehow, though, the relevance of personal and identifying behavior, over time, had become a welcome feature of improving my esteem about my place, in the ecosphere, of the larger identity that my online life turns out to be, and of the richness of the interaction and engagement experiences have been, while observing, here and there, the blunders of people who "just don't care" to compose themselves well, of their outward appearance before others; oftentimes, perhaps - simply a matter of that they just don't realize how unsober they'd become. 

There's several things that are becoming of composure, yet - another facets of modern-day etiquette is that proper sociable consideration for others is typically met with improvements, in life, on many measures, whereas going back to a place of abuse, time and again,with no news as to otherwise, that had developed - is largely quite likely to yield such similar results of abuse, again, inevitably. 

All in all, much of the rough and tumble work of the intricacies of measuring and analyzing bulk swaths of data, had already been carried out, painstakingly, by the scientists and engineers who brought us the internet, and social media - for example, which markets itself towards our desire for rewards, in the form of fulfillment upon expectations. One of the headlines that I came across today, was the old adage - "a failure to plan, is a plan to fail," which becomes a strangely hinged magnet of contingency operators within the mesh of our lives, as various entities wish to market themselves to us, for the sake of fulfilling their own expectations. 

That being said, if you expect poor results, and yet, still maintain the relationship, that's simply a false attachment to courtesy, or for laziness' sake, yet, otherwise known as the Stockholm Syndrome, in psychology - where victims (hostages), rather, over time, tended to - in this historic study - begin to empathize with their captors. I'd say that it were a failing prospect to simply endeavor that there's not simply better people out there, than a person that treats you poorly. In this country (the United States of America), we are given the freedom to leave, while also having the burden of due process, in criminality, to suppose that people are not simply guilty,until proven innocent. 

Given that I hear voices, and many of them, at that, as a person largely of a socially isolated sort, it begs the question, of "should I be narcissistic and grandiose, as a shortcoming?" or believe that damaging the relationship that's establishing itself, from what's developed, out of an overbearing abundance of propriety, incloseness, being that I was made uncomfortable, and with some people, uncommunicative, obviously languishing behind, in the ever-boding ladder of sociable entrepreneurship, that affords itself to the time-honored classics of the bread-winner; the one who brings home the bacon. In this day and age, baser things, such as sexuality, gender, childhood traumas - all of these sorts of things, could potentially simply matter much less, in the perspective of myriads of enterprising endeavors being bestowed upon the one who might simply compose themselves up, as the better man, better woman, the patient child - the sociable little Mr. Sparrow, of the day, for example - these are all simply choices, to the mind's eye, yet when we become arbitrarily uncomfortable, it stands to reason that someone unfamiliar, or uncommon, or even more of an obscurity, in society - I mean, I'm on the bottom scale of sociable endeavors, to a limited perspective. Criminal pettiness attracts itself like the nuclear watershed attracts filth unto water on cloth, for example. It follows a natural pattern, rather than intelligent design, whereas intelligence is happening all the world over. 

Some people simply behave as if "the world is their oyster," yet many people simply fail to reciprocate the oyster, for it's plénitude in seafood gourmet - it is a strong and constant creature, with a closed mind, except as towards survival, as it knows, of life. 

On one hand, it's got an enterprising establishment about it's reputation, yet, in many circumstances, it's simply controversial to suggest so much of oysters, for eating. 

What's the point? 

Criminals generally take and steal from others, as some form of crime, whereas good people make offerings to others. Given one further, an intelligent design, of an iPigeon-made petitude would demand that the offering be ethically and morally sound, and sustainable. Going further up the ladder of the standards in psychology, the social and ecological benefit of the offering ought be good and fruitful, for the betterment of all, and beyond our own reach, as the winds and the waters expanse will flow and churn, unlike the nuclear watershed, which is still and tense, yet calm, over the broad expanse of noisy things, and frequency wavelengths, of disturbance. 

Now, establishing that some things are disturbing one's self could be simply just enough to establish that someone is a criminal, in pursuit of a victim, which it typically seems to be. 

It doesn't take much, for violence to become established, at least on some occasions, out of the fruitulness of having established a good reputation for a sociable endeavor, as the anomaly to the norm. 

Out here, there's several debacles, not only of such, but also of time - the passing of which, is a strange thing to leave, unobserved, or abandoned. I live in the Pacific Daylight Savings Time locality, as a prospective Maps and Timezones Cloud Platform Applications studies and development inquiries enthusiast. Those sorts of things are the types of things that seem to catch my attentions, lately. I simply wonder at what the possibilities are, and then I set out, and endeavor to live out my standard day, to the best of my capability. 

In general, I'd say that our leaders are best spoken for, when it's established that there's been some nuance of professionalism upon persona that's been established, somehow - of what could possibly be surmised about a person, based on what's offered. Sometimes, it takes a lot of words to establish a suitable particular position, in things, whereas some things, in leadership roles, just seem to be compelling, whereas true leaders train the most, in several manifest facets of the word - in and of themselves, and for others, the same, or less. But for someone who asks too much of what's reasonably accommodable of themselves, it's difficult, on the lower levels of achievement-capability, to truly appreciate much. 

Now, ... Even "now," though. It's a completely different topic, from person, to person, except that many people simply establish the standards of a day, as the day goes by, and as far as days go, and come again. 

I felt like, if I hadn't established some notions of that people had somehow ruined their reputations, for standing against personal freedoms, in life, it would suppose that this entire COVID-19 thing is largely well understood, by and large, for what it might mean, for other people. Other people have been having a huge roil about it, somewhat facetiously; people had gotten away with a lot of garbage behavior, both online, and off - some people planned out criminal activities and victim profiling and targeting, out in society. 

One person's voice said, though, that she hadn't seen anyone "dying," and news reports would affirm that many people who had been reported to have had the coronavirus disease, and died - had comorbid illnesses, on top of coronavirus - to suppose that they had perhaps been targets of some form of nuclear watershed abandonment, neglect, or that they had simply been "nasty" people, whereas I strive to have little of that, as for myself. Even better if I could have none. 

Tobacco, though, and I'll have some, regularly. Feeding the birds, and I'll go to the park. Some other things, I'll simply just not understand, for the moment, and I'd have to leave it, at that.

Wednesday, April 1

Social Distancing as Government Decree Amidst the Weaponization of Proximity as a Risk Factor in Remote State Sensing and Remote Communications Applications.

In this day and age, whereas the surveillance state was widely publicized back during the Barack Obama presidency; wherefore rational thought (aside from this, and otherwise) would suppose that time, in an industrialized nation, sees progress, rather than blank spaces where, instead, technology and science (Scientology) provides us ,ith solutions and answers. 

Like any studious cohort to the Scientology Faith would attest, the means by which allegory presents itself as moralistic fable, whereas critical analysis is suggestibly at the core of arriving at some reasonable take-out drive-through of what these minds'-eye visions would and ought portend. 

I'm not, somewhat, supposing that everyone is in agreement of all matters at stake here; I'm simply providing a mock-up stub of arriving at a theory of that victim profilers, as criminals, oftentimes fail at overcoming the fallacy of the proximally significant Target of their scheme(s), out in society. 

Several things come in to play here. (I'll try to keep things short, stub, and simple. 

There's nano-meta-material electromagnetically construed quantum-arrangements of what could be the natural aesthetic of what constitutes a parasitic organism. Such a thing, philosophically, would be wrought out of the disorder of a ramshackle and detrimented lifestyle. Given the modern day foray of industrialized society, electrical currents, wear and tear on the infrastructure, private and public Enterprise, variants takes on personal space, and of criminality, all contribute to circumstances in which the electrical grid might be compromised, of an organic nature - such that would construe, given the aesthetic developments of disarray, wear and tear, environmental stress, etc. upon a host organism, who consumes radioactive materials through smoking, through pollution, or through the use of medications - these aesthetic "accidents" of an organic nature could, conceivably: provide the physical and underlying nano-metamaterial to construe a classically formed parasitic organism or virus, through nano-wire Faradaic induction transmission, for example, as one step in the process of a mock-up host creation of a creature which has all of the elements of life, as necessary, given a lesser state of evolutionary development - we can all agree on that much - that various creatures are representative of different stages of evolution, as they present themselves. 

Tracing back, just a bit, take, for example, my laborer's hand, as an image of such a structural environment of circumstantial disarray. There are various opportunities for protein structures to intermingle, become loosened from my hand, and provide fodder for a nano-materials-age ad-hoc creature to become mocked-up, if I were to neglect my common hygeine. 

There's various structural damage here. A bee sting, some scrapes, fingernail dirt, age lines and wrinkles. 

Given that this could have been my foot, in my sock, developing in such a similar environment, the nurturing life-sustaining medium of various types of bacterial and nano-sized breeding and grooming grounds could consequentially (moreso) be established, of an increased risk of establishment. 

With ionic minerals and electrolytes taken in to the diet, as supplementation, or as detoxification, the playgrounds for Faradaic currents to thread and Lorentz-attractors of electromagnetic-metalloids, currents carried through these particle-periphery structures - these things seem to become inherent (or apparent) in the concepts of Weaponization of intent, or in the exploitation of Proximity in culling a victim, to lessen the parasitic form's in(dis-)ease in a warfaring engagement of immunological or of a socially-bound structure. 

For example, a gay guy came up to me the other day, and I took him as standard; rather, at first. However, as it would turn out, he started acting gay towards me, which I somewhat just don't quite believe, or accept, as truth. Despite all things, he had gained some initial acquaintanceship exploits of common decency and twinges of friendship out of me, and he had gained the exploit potential of Proximity. 

He gestured towards my groin area, he wanted to hug me; he was drinking wine, and he had urged me to, despite me telling him that I'm allergic to alcohol. The solvent, volatile nature of alcohol comes in to question, with a subject such as myself, in that I am also allergic (perhaps moreso) to some of the metabolites of alcohol in the body, such as aldehydes (which my body more strongly produces. I relented to sipping some alcohol with him, while he became homosexually-interested drunk. 

My (sub-)theory is that having a matching duality of quantum endpoints, in two separate structures - here, our bodies, our stomachs, our lungs, our ear, nose, and throat structures - all come in to play with what I perceive as a "dirty" weaponization trick of proximity in social distancing being offended, which should have been obvious to him; yet he demanded that he was homosexually interested in intimacy with me. 

My take out order of the bum-at-the-park option for patronization of an establishment ended soon, thereafter. I noticed that the young man had an orthopaedic surgery scar on his left ankle, as he walked with a cane. I hadn't been let in on the extent of his limping in being such a drastic injury. I feel that his ministrations towards me were a form of ritualistic lurking intent, in persisting in my physical form, after the fact (here, being our interaction, and potential friendship, which had lost it's appeal, during the course of a couple of hours in which we were around each other, and speaking, which I felt was the basis and extent of our interaction, whereas I could have offered him options for hanging out with me further, of helping with work, whereas I found his gestured towards me unthinkably unprofessional, so I abandoned that hope for him). 

The situation had turned to me suggesting that he might need to be hospitalized. The story that played out in my mind's eye about the park suggested that he was being accommodated at the park with a warm blanket, as a homeless and unfortunate person, yet I returned, for my own sake, and there was no repeat of him showing up again. 

After leaving the initial encounter and situation that had established itself, as a crisis, I felt that he was trying to intend that his pain, of his surgery, and inflammation of his healing bones and ligaments in his ankle were perhaps the underlying motive in his "acting out" of a homosexually-interested nature.

I took the Metro Gold Line back towards downtown Los Angeles, Union Station, to take care of my administrative tasks and workload of the day. On the train ride back, there was a guy who was purported to be a vehemently anti-homosexual violent and volatile sort, who had also been drinking alcohol. It was reported to my internalized conscious mind that he would have wanted to complain of that I was wearing green and gold shiny eye makeup, whereas he would have taken it as a gesture of pro-homosexuality, which just isn't the case, in my case. I felt a sickening and relevant (to the context being described in my mind) illness, much like a drunken alcoholic hangover, (I suppose), yet definitely circumstantially, it seemed to be as a result of the proximity of one of the train's riders to me, whereas I consume a large amount of internally and externally applied ionic minerals during the course of a month. The spinning of the train's wheels seemed to reputedly be "milling" ionic periphery structural proximity calculations, whereas there were definitely compute calculations playing out in my head -

I wasn't thinking of these things, originally. 

Saturday, March 28

Thankfully, people are keeping the birds fed during this public health crisis.

I stopped over in DTLA, after returning an unexpectedly fortunate haul of recyclables to the tune of $7.70 at GP Recycling

A passing bike rider observes the Los Angeles Public Library flock of pigeons after they enjoy a meal for the afternoon.
Largely, aside from some scant touristy and locals type of population being outdoors in downtown Los Angeles, there is an obvious larger demographic of homeless individuaos, as well as individuals trekking about, after being released from Los Angeles County Jail. The other night, the depravity population was out in large numbers, many of them looking for trouble. I was fortunate to have some overseer protective status, as a victim of crime asset, of which, there was a vast underpinning allegory being portrayed to my front-of-mind, as the remote theatre of operations of a tactical nature, which had escalated in to Army Corps of Engineers being called out to make sure that the ground water was suffice to manage the ongoing enumeration of Civic individuals, and as well, as a courtesy resource management Target accommodation, in that the ambient temperature of DTLA is sometimes artificially warm, or unseemingly cold, and windy, to help preserve the safety of displaced victims, and to calm the seeking slight criminal nature of the otherwise also displaced, or perhaps gang-affiliate group injunction status of the street-walking demographic, which was rife, out on the streets on Thursday. 

Wednesday, September 11

Attempting to capture the miniature J’acque-ielle-uffalope on photograph after a cock-tarded start to a banger trading day (update to come).

The latest cocq-tard’ed kitsch thing of the moment is a nuclear watershed fuzz closet scrum-bwix*stchkies^~£<_>^ hard-tack pigeon-biscuit (hard-timin’) folio, of some future-generations AI-tech cloud-print materials-ulterior quantum-“heres-and-nows” scala-sorts of risk-assessment data exhibits visualizations, of that I now have the means to capture such creatures-almoste, like an aspiration to become a vegan, yet be graced with a valid, yet urban, and authentic finery’s establishment of a long-bespoken cultural underpinning to surmise its indisputable, humble offering. 

The Jack-a-luffalope, in standard American minds, becomes delineated by its visual form as the lowest and least most common denominator - both base and treble are ostensible cultivar aspirations of the Indo-European-Germanic-Classically Latin etymologies and evolutionary possibilities - it could either have been printed in to a beetle (potato-affined; “potato beetle,” as I’ve discovered, or it could have become a meaty bold ranges and tundras work-bison, with many more evolutions and interventions in play. 

The jackrabbit is the ostensible Adonis youthful breadwinner in this one of many bits and scattered scrummy pieces of all sorts of stuff in the scrum - closet: for technical analysis and scholarly delimination of “from out of a trash-dive closet,” - I still haven’t cleaned up, fully, but I’d assert that I gathered valuables, from the dumpsters, etc., and that many people were simply not raised quite as well as I was, and it’s upsetting the higher ups and potential institutional entity chippers of whatever small cultural means that they might see towards my beneficiary unto myself, for picking up pennies, etc. hmmm...

Anyways, I’ll follow up on my blog of transliterative creoles-vested niches of publication, about some of the more integrated discrete forms that come to light in the greater socioeconomic forays (chaotically-macro), yet within he scale of one day of (commonly) modern-day trauma, as it had come to be known, the integral formative entities that I’ve dug up, in a day of meted-research and development aux-relevànce on market bangers this week, and of today... 

I’ll leave it at that. 

Thursday, June 13

The bwippzies sideways-steppin' cockroach

... it sideways stepped its way into my life when I (inadvertently) kicked a hole in the wall, once upon an R.E.M. behavioral disorder episode of acting out.

The bwippzies sideways-steppin' cockroach won my favor over with the novelty of that it was sideways-steppin' its way in to my life, as a hole-in-the-wall (new one) creature.

From Google:

Oct 14, 2017 · In a person with REM sleep behavior disorder (RBD), the paralysis that normally occurs during REM sleep is incomplete or absent, allowing the person to "act out" his or her dreams. RBD is characterized by the acting out of dreams that are vivid, intense, and violent.

Tuesday, December 4

Early December, 2ⁿ18. The Broadway windy Corridor at Manchester .farm nursery seedlings from Armstrong's Nursery Center in Pasadena.

As an .institute Founding Director of a - purchased web property purpose(ing), today {-esque} I've reinforced the notion that slakingAF trawl-mining is bisque, to a reasonably-chowder reasonably pork-shoulder slow-roasted oven night; for the sake of the fact that trawlin' webAfFs never ends, yet milling crête materials-resources into slakenAF trawlin' feed is unfashionable; the notably fux*swquif-⅝fwa-BAMM! af : most world-class-trendy Renegade Craft Fair Nº of ChinatownDTLA 8-9th

Saturday, October 6

An unexpected turn of events in green pine cone burgeoning sapling ad hoc research: an ad hoc burgeoning of instantaneous sproutling and mineral growth upon Del Mar Park puddle un-mud-covering wash-off of the green pine cone.

I didn't have batteries to video tape it, and it would have been particularly sight beyond belief, as I spun the pine cone around in the early morning gutter puddles of Del Mar Park, in Pasadena. The green pine cone, being covered in mud, as I had it, to preserve the progress I'd made of last time: using it as an incense resin development tool; here, the life energy of the pine cone was brought forth as an experiment of the localization I found myself in, being squaftph'ed of my strength in csrryinv recyclables further, through the park: one day, and I ended up babbling to a supposed oppositional force, being the drinking alcohol sort, which happens to be a common (delusional) belief that I have of the nearby watering hole, by the train station.

As I spent the night out there, perhaps later I'll expand upon it; I spotted, just prior to watering time for the lawn: some notions of ionically empowered creatures of parasitical sort, along with what appeared to just as well be their empirical needs fodder for survival, appearing completely ad hoc upon my blanket: dark creatures of diseases past, of civilization, and material mineral salts, all ad hoc, surprisingly; if anything imaginably ad hoc could be envisioned. Seemingly comically out of nowhere, as it may have been otherwise; a blanket search (silly) of ad hoc crystal meth, out of nowhere; yet I'd notably long-been over that habit, bar none. If was silly that it was happening to me, yet I found myself taken by it, as perhaps by tribulation upon my hours upon end of ranting to an invisible someone, or something.

That being said, and having had happened, I curiously searched around the nearby gutters, as would be iPigeon sort commonplace of me, in downtown LA. Yet, this being Pasadena, and the strange nature of things that had established themselves; I figured that strange inquiries of the gutter might just as well suffice, particularly since I had been ousted by the morning sprinklers, and I felt that, from the common passers-by of late night and early morning, it wouldn't be particularly unseemly if I pigeon'ed around as a gutter-curious one.

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That being said, many wonders of gutter ad hoc life-burgeoning activ-ization of reality and development "ad hoc;" for how much ionic mineral worth and cigar ritualization investment had been given to my pine cone, covered in mud, I truly got to witness a wonder of nature, with my green pine cone, covered in mud: as anything it might end up as, for growth is considered - it definitely created ad hoc rocks, moving sightly sprouts, of gutter tall tree root growth extent, and some roots seemed to grow out of the pine cone itself, yet it was covered in mud; I've just now removed the mud to investigate, and the cone seems a volatile object of needing (at such escalated ionic mineral and human-intervened growth potential) constant care in order to see this thing through to sprouting a sapling.

Another development query at hand, is if it was the pine cone itself, which burgeoned instantaneous growth in the gutter root puddles of cement and root mixture, or if it was the ionic minerals themselves? Obviously, the pine cone had much in the way of ionic mineral resource, yet I wonder if by dipping the pine cone into the gutter puddles, if it also took some of the life of the pine cone away from it; and if this method might also see forth an agricultural process homesteading in using rich resource of large seeds of trees as ad hoc burgeoning of sprout growth in root structures or other young (or old) plant life. A topic for investigation.

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Pigeon-watching hotspots to see around town #5: The USC Dumpster Pigeons.

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