Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts

24 March 2008

Catching Hell From the Hellish


Even within my own "supposed" community, the community assigned to me by virtue of my sexual preference, I catch hell in the online dating realm, whenever I complain about the content of insipid
emails from the dull and ignorant on personals sites. Misspelled words, fragmented sentences, fake modesty, transparent bravado, shallow beliefs, misplaced haughtiness, gender confusion, the walking wounded.... Sometimes I can't believe it. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to believe it, because it's true. It happens to me repeatedly, like some recurring rash... I continue to get those kinds of mails.

I even started a special forum called Atypical Lesbians, to try to accommodate those who felt as I did. I saw it as a sort of Underground Railroad for chagrined, dispirited lesbians who wanted more from their lives and their people; those who wanted to rise above the mundane and stereotypical. I have simply lost my patience with the kind of mentality so commonly revealed in ads and emails from personals sites. Associating with those "types" just depresses me. But five months after I launched the forum, there's very little activity, because apparently, there are not enough lesbians out there who are Atypical. Notwithstanding my good intentions, it's not like you can bring any rise to the unleavened, as it were. This is another thing that Political Correctness helps keep afloat. No one speaks out, no one says this is not acceptable. It keeps us all from evolving. Some truths are still the truths, even if they are uncomfortable to some.

So...I am an individualist, non-conformist...among other things some would label "bitch." Why is it that having standards for yourself and others, automatically relegates you to bitch-status? I don't enjoy being so schismatic with my identity and the identity of others...but somehow if I don't, I feel I will be sucked into the abyss. And if I'm going to be sucked into the abyss, I want it to be the Bliss Abyss, not the abyss of ignorance.

I suppose all this means I am also an Intellectual Separatist. I'm not judging the people, per se, just their behavior, their choices, and the surrounding issues that arise. But it's often so hard to divide a subjective self-concept or cosmology from the objective universal ones. Meaning, some people have certain ideas about themselves, and anything that threatens it is rejected out of hand. Even if what they believe is inaccurate or delusional. They believe what they believe and sometimes can't understand that beliefs are malleable; that evolution is predicated on questions and data-gathering; that what is true now, is not always written in stone; and perhaps most importantly, that if you don't educate yourself and make learning your friend, you will be INCAPABLE of understanding the very concepts that might lead to inner peace and happiness. Contrarily, you also cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Ultimately everyone has to take the reins on their own buggy and guide it where they want it to go.

And then there's that old Prime Directive (from Star Trek)--never interfere with the natural evolution of a species. I think that applies here, too. We can help when asked or when we think we might be able to LightSwitch someone; we can put our ideas out there and hope they are considered. But ultimately, everyone is on her own path, and what she learns has to be visceral. Ideas will only take you so far. Action is the defining element. And I can't make anyone do anything they don't want to do.



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16 March 2008

Nerdy by Necessity--JavaScript Hell


Over the last couple of weeks I have been in JavaScript Hell. While i have full faith and confidence
that Blogger will become the preeminent blogging site on the web, having been bought by Google, it is still fraught with some glitches that need attention. But everything that Google touches turns to gold, and years ago when Google began as an upstart search engine, I saw the possibilities, i just didn't have the funds to invest in the stock. But I wanted to. And while I don't really kick myself, I sort of kick the universe, for that little bit of misfortune. I'd be a rich freaker right now. So I am left with my odd obsession with collecting Google Logos...

Anyway, back to Dante's 13th Ring of Hell known as JavaScript. I wanted to add random quotes to my blogs, and I must have looked at and tried some 30 different scripts, all of which failed miserably for some indefinable reason. And when I wrote to the authors or hosts of those scripts, I was met with blinding silence.

This led me to researching the specifics of JavaScript coding, and that alone, was like learning a foreign language. I am Nerdy by Necessity. It's not my natural state of being, but I will become obsessed with anything that might solve a problem i need solved. It's why I have built or rebuilt almost every computer I've owned. I call them my Frankenstein models. I take from everywhere and try to make things function. It's all just a means to an end for me, so that I can get my various creative endeavors out there into the societal and Internet ether.
After staggering disappointments, I finally did find a random text script that worked, and lo and behold, the author of that script actually answered my inquiry promptly and solved the problem and I have since been impressed by his career. In his own words, David, of Spider Webmaster Tools, said,
Dear Jae,

I developed SpiderWebmasterTools many, many years ago and I have since moved on to bigger and better Internet arenas. Web developing and Internet Marketing (SEO/SEM) has become my forte.

I still dabble in Java Script, but I've moved on to mastering PHP and MySQL. Two sites that I showcase this in is Form Genics and CSS-Generator where I mix JS and PHP together.

Some of my work has been included in such major projects such as Mambo and Joomla. Another one of my sites, Free-Color-Picker has scripts that I developed and they have been downloaded over 50,000 times.

I also run a web hosting company http://www.ANetworkCompany.net and a very popular manual web directory service, PageRankSubmit.

On top of all this, I do I.T. consulting - setting up corporate servers, Intranet web servers, MX (email) servers and filtering.

So, I am quite busy at times, to say the least. But, I will always try to help those in need as my time will allow.

You may drop me a question anytime...

David
What an accomplished, stand-up guy. And I was sure to tell him so. That's why you'll see his links on my site. In another post, I will cover some of the things I've learned in this script-search and tweak process so that any of the bloggers out there who are having the same vexation I was, with finding a working Random Text JavaScript, will enjoy the satisfying solution I did.



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17 August 2003

Mississippi: First Circle of Hell?

Mississippi just might be the first Circle of Hell. The heat and humidity here is oppressive, to say the least. I can always get a derisive laugh out of locals when i say, "When's it going to snow?" I admit, i had some preconceived notions about moving to a coastal area. Most of those notions were probably based on movies I've seen like Sleepless in Seattle.

Important distinction here: that's the Pacific Northwest, this is the Southern Gulf. I've noticed that when people talk about living "bi-coastal,"they are obviously leaving out the THIRD coast. The U.S. is really tri-coastal. The Gulf Coast, however, is like the red-headed step-child.

I can't speak to the appearance of the ocean on either West or East coast, but i can say that the Gulf of Mexico looks like one giant mud puddle. It certainly doesn't appear as it does in movies. And there are no shells or other washed-up sea treasures on the beaches--no, they clean the coastal sand with a big vacuum truck. So beach-combing is out.

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Then there's the Tern sanctuary area that you must avoid in the interest of preserving an endangered species.

And you can't have your dog on the beach either. That will cost you a hefty fine

I had hoped to go floundering for the first time in my life, but roommate, who is a Mississippi Gulf Coast native, said it was awfully dangerous, since we would likely be accosted by bad men up to no good.

Even with all these obstacles aside, often the beaches are just plain CLOSED. Most often, "as a result of high bacteria levels." We are told we will be notified when it is again safe for human contact. The good stuff about beaches, then, is not to be had.

Then there's the threat of hurricanes. Obviously, not something one looks forward to, but even if no one is hurt and there is minimal property damage, there's the power outages that leave you in sweltering triple-digit heat afterward for sometimes weeks. And if the roads are blocked near where you live due to debris, then all the hoodlums are likely to take advantage. Cops can't get to you, you can't leave, so you're at the whim of any gang members or other undesirables who may want to enter your house and take whatever they want--including YOU.

To add to the negative column, there's also an unrelenting collection of toads that croak so loud, it can drown out the TV.

Overall, Probably most bothersome are the fleas. I've never in my life had so much trouble with flea infestation. About 3 times a day, i have to get down in the floor with my dog and pick fleas. Hundreds at a time. A few hours later, he's scratching and whining like crazy again. Cats have them too. Nothing store-bought works. I'm about to try herbal and natural remedies next.

Not surprisingly, i am looking forward to living in Colorado again, if i can ever get to the right region--Boulder/Denver area. I'll take cold weather, fresh air, creative arts communities, and cultural and entertainment choices any day over a bad beach. I just hope there's no unforeseen form of hell there. Like giant, attacking snow bunnies.


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16 January 2000

Petting the Hounds of Hell



from my memoir, "The Misadventures of No One Famous"

There was that short period in my life in 1998, when I actually believed all would be well. I had a great job that I loved, it paid well, and it seemed it was only a matter of time before I got back on my financial feet. I began to feel good about myself again. Deeply spiritual. Like I had just returned from a sabbatical in an ashram with the Dalai Lama, and was blessed and sanctified by my victory over previous hardships.

Then my paycheck bounced. Then another, and another, and the NSF charges began to pile up since I wrote checks for bills on that amount I expected to be there. I confronted my boss with the admonition that I would need to be compensated immediately or I could not continue to work. The conversation deteriorated from there, turned into an altercation, and a refusal to pay, and I threatened to leave and take the extra computer with me as collateral until he paid me. That's when he called the police.

The officers arrived, a report was filed, and I was escorted to my car-- without a paycheck, and without the computer. I entertained the idea of sugar in his gas tank, or a well-placed banana peel, but thought myself above that sort of pettiness. I was out of sugar and bananas.

Many weeks later, my ex-boss finally sent a check, painfully short of what was actually owed, and wrote a little legal statement on the back stating that endorsement of that check meant that it was payment in full. By that time, my financial status was so bad, I didn't have a choice. I had to take what he offered, even though he owed me over a thousand dollars. So I signed my name to the back of the check, all the while sending really nasty black energy in his direction.

Jobless and in financial hot-water, I took my disabled self to the first job I could find. Delivering pizza. Problem was, the original job description was that I would deliver only. It developed into being on my feet 8-10 hours, carrying large trays of very heavy dough, enormous cans of sauce, mopping, sweeping... all the sorts of things "normal" people can do.

I told the manager on duty that I couldn't do those things, wasn't supposed to do them, but got no sympathy. That conversation ended in sophomoric chastisement in front of several customers. I knew it was only a matter of time before my back gave out. And when that actually happened, I headed for the door with a slipping disc, bent over like a great-grandmother with osteoporosis.

I was practically bedridden for the next two weeks, as the bills continued to pile up. My water was turned off, my electricity was about to be, and I knew I had to find other work, regardless of how long I could keep it.

I started a job at Blockbuster, but soon discovered that 4 to 8 hours on my feet was just as bad as short hours lifting things. I started missing work, and finally went down with another slipped disc and had to turn in my notice. I also had to turn in my notice to the landlord since I was two months behind and saw no end in sight.

A Chapter 7 Bankruptcy and the guest room of an old friend were all that saved me from living in my van. I moved almost all my things to storage in January, '99, while applying for increases in my VA disability and compensation from Social Security.

I still owed the landlord for that month's rent, and wasn't able to sell that furniture to pay him--which is still in the living room of my ex-house. And Tyler (my ex--the one who ripped my heart to shreds) is moving into that house since they raised the rent where she was...odd...like some sort of personal insult...

So this morning, after a long night of anxiety dreams, I pulled myself out of bed and started a strong pot of coffee... Checked the mail...My thoughts kept wandering back and forth between these things:

  • what's the going price for cocaine?
  • how many people do I have to kill to join a gang?
  • how exactly does one contact the devil in order to sell one's soul?
  • Does he carry a "sell" phone?
  • what should be said in my suicide note?
This delightful frame of mind is brought to you by the Sherwood Municipal Court, Hot Check Division: "We're just doing our jobs." These fine people now hold a warrant for my arrest. Talk about adding insult to injury, salt to a wound...

Funny, they managed to put out a warrant for me, but that check from my ex Boss-From-Hell never was covered, even though I filed an affidavit on him. I continue to feel he's responsible for much of this Misfortune Circus that is my life. If he hadn't written me those hot paychecks and thrown me into financial devastation, which meant I had to leave the job-- well, none of this would have happened.

And if I had never joined the Army, none of the past eleven years of crap would have happened, and I would be able to find other work, no matter how physical it was. But my choices are limited.

So there was every possibility I'd end up getting arrested and going to jail--all because I couldn't whip out my checkbook and pay for this fine.

I kept trying to see the point of it-- the larger spiritual picture...I just continued to feel like the Biblical figure, JOB. Funny, that name looks an awful lot like something I wish I had. They should have added an "e" to the end of it. Hey, I even have boils again. Didn't "JOBe" have to deal with that, too? (I would ask the POWERS THAT BE please not to kill my family). That story strikes me as bogus anyway. A Loving God? God kills a man's family in order to test HIS faith....mmm. I must remember to ask Reverend Sid to explain that one.

So what have I learned?


I've learned that it's not a good idea to save the unused canned biscuits for later baking. They come out flat and firm like hardtack. (I only opened them because all I had was a can of 10, and I was hungry. I couldn't very well eat 10 Texas-sized biscuits, even if I am hungry most of the time lately).

So I've learned that now, God. I understand. Now, call off your Hounds.


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