FORGOTTEN PROPHETS: Weak in Review

I realized a couple days ago that I don't trust smiles. They're such an easy manipulation. A tension of muscle fibers, voluntary, like the strings of a puppet. No honesty needed, or passion. Social viagra. But why should expression be more honest than words? As I have so wisely said, words are what we use to tell lies. Corollary: smiles are for deceiving. And also for telling the truth. How are we to discern?

One of the reasons I'm such a stick is that I withhold judgment. Don't trust. But don't distrust either. Wait and see. Twenty-five and more years ago, early in my marriage, my then-wife told me that one of her friends had figured out why I was so socially abrasive. Well, first, I'm abrasive? But it was that I was testing people, seeing if they could be trusted. Y'know what? The friend was right. An unconscious mechanism on my part, brought into the light by an insightful woman. I've toned it down, way down, in the ensuing decades, but trust is still the heart of the matter.

I've had a couple days off, for the holy day. That was nice. Caught up on some missed sleep. Finished reading three books. Thinking about eating more, and focusing again on training. Maybe get a microwave -- maybe I'll find one on the side of the road? It's been a desultory few months. Thinking about starting a long-delayed project. Hard to find the time, yet sleep deprived, and need the energy, and food. Ah well. It's another one of those turning-point moments, so often missed.

So I need to do met-cons at least three times a week. Been neglecting that. And strength training. Need to focus on chinups and double-unders, and rowing. Want a treadmill, that goes at least 14 mph, for intervals. Most productive. So much to do, so little reason to do it.

Legalized marijuana. Medical. Medical. Doesn't that mean it should be regulated as a pharmaceutical? Not the over-the-counter kind of drug, that you just buy cuz you want it. And not under-the-counter. Prescribed. What are these quasi-criminal dispensaries doing, being semi-legal? If you need a prescription to get medical marijuana, then it should be supplied only by pharmacies. The not-online kind.

I have this fantasy, where someone identifies drug dealers and shoots them down like mad dogs, as a public service. When public safety institutions fail, we need vigilantes. Need. But, sadly, courts are a part of the public safety establishment, which means that righteous men, who stand up for justice, go to jail.

The 60 Year War was hot again for a few minutes, this week. North Korea. Murdered a few soldiers, if that's possible. A few dozen sailors some months back. Ah well, what's a country to do. I mean, it's not as if we have any leverage with China, NoKo's sponsor. What, have WalMart buy from India instead? Unthinkable. That would cost 2 cents more. Sure, an ally is an ally, but 2 cents ain't hay. We're talking real money after a while, and what's a few dead South Koreans compared to that? Don't rock the boat baby. Let NoKo sink it. Who needs boats anyway. We can fly. It's a right, and it has the added bonus nowadays of us getting our junk twisted publicly by fat men in uniforms. Ahh. I always wanted to be famous for being naked on the internet, even if it's only backsplatter imaging. Yeah, you heard right baby. It's so dirty and fine. So it all ties in together. We bend over for all the Second World despots and Third World hard guys, and, uh, well, I can't think of a way to end this sentence, but as long as the West remains complacent everything is fine, and dirty.

So I went online to see if I could find more images of penises. Slim picklings. Sort of surprising. But I'll upload what I found. Mostly autopsy photos, but isn't that appropriate, coming from our sterile and dying civilization? Now Arab penises, and North Korean! I can't think of a way to finish that thought, but it would be great if I could. Something about explosions and missiles and suchlike.