My Word Is My Bond, A Documentary on the Chicago Board of Trade

My Word Is My Bond, A Documentary on the Chicago Board of Trade



These are my benchmarks.

 I'm not doing to well living up to it, but this too, shall pass.

 I've got 9 3D web regions to set up.... and Xanadu is looking GOOD!

There's still more to do and with the evidence exonerating me, was a fool's errand.

I was grossly under-estimated, but definitely caught off-guard.  The locals filled me in on how it happened.  To them, I am eternally grateful and will be back to socialize once I recover from the Mercury going retrograde, red moon, political apocalyptic overblown SNAFU.

And if nerds, hacks and testers MUST use every blessed celestial event and April Fool's holiday to cover for the mess they make of  the internet,  I'm never attending another EXPO or conference or crossover snipe hunt around those times.

 Either way, this social experiment is earning my student loan discharge,

And there's still a GOD because I'm still blessed!

 How is it my fault people shut their eyes to miracles they won't see?

No, they happened so fast, I didn't get to post them, but suffice it to say,

Critical Mass is not to be messed with. 

While looking for answers for this problem, I met the right people with the answers to, "What am I missing here?"..when other methods failed.  My plan was to rest, flush out the side effects of the bad meds and learn what I needed to know for the next part of One Big Soup.  I have a backlog of skills I need to update and no, I don't need a GED, fyvm!
However, Grid-hopping the cloud has it's hazards, but the architects in the cloud rarely descend to the www unless absolutely necessary.  Where do they think millions of overqualified, retired, stressed out nerds and geeks went after they sold us out by the 30,000's at a time...?

Hmmm?

We did what we always do when greed jacks up a renewable resource...we built another network and no, Second Life isn't IT. 

Second Life is ON IT.



And yes, it's a social experiment because it mimics real life better than any Levittown ever could.



It kinda ticks me off....

But I'm walking like I haven't since the 80s and never needed to debase myself and

be forced into taking help from people too ignorant to breed, let alone be allowed in what is becoming a school zone where kids learn from their own families and friends, just like the good ol' days when people understood what "It takes a village" really means.

Things are being "handled"...as best as I can keep up with it.

It seems my service connection disability claim got eaten in the ether between Fargo and here....ON TOP OF EVERYTHING else.



So, I have this complaint to the state while this dispute does what it's going to do. 

Unless I was hired as a manager and missed the memo....  I'm pretty sure I'm justified in being confused on the issue. 

Yeah, people think genius is a fun thing to have.

wanna bet?

The last thing Fargo VA could offer for the fibro was Oxycontin.  They were in full agreement with my refusal.



So, as I was trying to get something taken care of by skype, since telephones suck now....

I was unable to get anywhere and I suppose the big bad marine and his friend heard it, even with the sliding glass door closed.

After the endless menu thing and a few conversations that led nowhere, I took a break from it....

I heard a blood-curdling scream and couldn't tell where it came from, but it sounded horrible.



When I opened the door to the balcony,  it turned out to be coming from the apartment below and he was with another guy ... being loud and hooting like rowdy kids at spring break, at 10:30.  That's an ex-marine with PTSD?  rly


It sounded like a woman screaming bloody murder!....and it was that fool accusing me of intentionally

studying all night to bother them.



So, I had a talk with the police officer who'd responded to someone listening in on my political conversation through the wall....should have also heard the voice of the guy in Mexico I was yelling at for not doing his homework. 



I explained that the veteran tags were from my own service, not my dad who left me the '01 Camry.  Yeah, I have had issues getting everything transferred no thanks to .......they know who the hell they are...

but the complaint in itself proves I was being stalked....while I was too busy to know it wasn't a joke related to the crossover work I was doing.  I gave him the tour of what a motivated educator does and honestly, I'm quite happy with it, and the plans they have with the family learning programs going on here.  It's a perfect model, but I was trying to build the demo to present the idea for comprehension.



So anyway, it boggled the mind that after sharing a lovely thought, it went so vindictive because a woman didn't want to let go of an abusive lover and she didn't want to respect the work I needed help with, not just what she was offering. 



After talking with her about helping me around the house while I got strong enough to do it myself, she asked me to see about her boyfriend who might help arrange my studio.  That was a load of crap because it was clear he hated everything I was about.....dismissed my life's work as useless out of the most profound ignorance I'd ever seen that close.  It seems his only point of reference was the ravings of Glen Beck who seemed to make perfect sense to him.  He burnt all his brain-cells on fearing everything.  She blamed the beer...as if that was new.  Good Grief, how many bars have I tended?

======================================

I emailed this at the end of August.... it was followed by many observations as he returned again and again trying to push his twisted point of view.....and join some Manson anarchist "family" in the fields...to tune out Timothy O'Leary style.  The more he talked, the more ludicrous he got and no, he never offered anything of value.  It was really creepy...so I ended it the best way I knew how, to avoid repercussions.   When he said, "Forget it, You have too much faith.".  I thought the conversation was over and I went back to what I was doing. 

So yeah, the stuff sounded like hints from the new browser I'd been using for the networks

on opensim and other grids.  The politics are holding up our work and I've been crossing the two networks trying to communicate



http://www.firestormviewer.org/the-real-joke-dui-is-no-joke/



=======================================

 So this fool who won't use the internet has no idea how much we bash Boogeyman Inc for lying to the masses!  And I'm supposed to believe he can do anything for me?  I think not.  But when I thought I'd proven my point that the gun-ho dude couldn't fault me...  I got an actual eviction notice from an actual lawyer and real police at my door!  

Then it went to surreal....just when I was getting the demo set up.

So everything got mixed up with the 5 things I was balancing, including the genealogy research and the clues to something even more interesting.  I went Dr. Brainard and the Jenga tower fell over ...  hacked, virus, full hard drive....the works....and fake government agents ....  and real life local news witch-hunts for slackers like me who should "get over it" and destroy the rest of what's left of me.



One of the notes was written on the back of a letter with HER NAME ON IT that came from the office to pay rent electronically.  Another was written on instructions for meds and most were scrawled on the back of repair sheets.  So yeah, I've filed a formal complaint to the governor's office. 

This is why I was working out in full view of the Embassy Suite hotel.  Why ask me if I have a gun when we're both on "Candid Camera", stupid!



And if it is in line of sight, I was taking pictures and telling stories about it online.  That's a lot of stuff because I still type half asleep.  There is no harm in that...and I do it because sometimes kewl ideas happen when I'm dreaming about stories I've been told and let them flow freely.



Driving, is not an issue because I rarely go out and I'm certainly wide awake and rested .  But when the GPS loses signal and I'm running out of gas.  it doesn't matter if it's a game and there's no harm in it.  I was lost and needed help before running out of freakin' gas!  Some hunts take you to places in real life just to show up in the security cameras.  It's a complicated thing to explain, when you don't see why a little game has anything to do with not wanting to get stranded.  If anything, waiting until there was no traffic showed good sense...at the time.  So why was asking a police officer for help the wrong thing to do? 

Dot-dot-dit-dit-dot-dot-dash!

That's the big "Damned if I know" and we had that joint committed to memory.

Do not tell me the POTUS won a Grammy for spoken word and skipped Gil Scot-Heron and do NOT tell me Chicagoland didn't think he was off his nut for running for the big chair with a middle name like Hussein!  When he won the primary, you could hear a pin drop from the car of any given L train, to any other car in the loop.  I saw people start to speak, and decide against it. 



And yes, I was right there in the thick of it when Blacks in DC asked for school funds to enrich their own schools, NOT ask be bused out of our neighborhoods to be mainstreamed out of commission. 

 Do not presume what kids hear when they're being seen and not heard.  We were sitting RIGHT THERE! and laughing at our parents on the playground for being so un-cool about it.  But when the kids came to our school in Levittown, we were told it was a temporary arrangement until their schools were repaired.  They kept promising the kids would be able to walk to school again......soon. 



Yes, we remember the oil embargo.  Guess who was sitting in the car waiting in those long gas lines...I'm just sayin...  we packed bags of books, puzzles, snacks and fought over the radio station waiting in those gas lines. 

"Gee Dad, how come they don't use all that money to fix the kids' schools?"

"Why don't we get a car that runs on the gas the school buses use, huh?"

  "How am I gonna get to NASA now?"

...just like little chicken hawks...



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZuP-7UI0Xo



And yes, I also know that agencies use high scores on games other than those on their own sites, to find talented coders and sleuths to recruit.  Hell, if grandma had a computer, she'd have used it! 

I found out the Coast Guard hired a friend in Second Life.  I have a lot of untapped skills that never got used and building on what I CAN do.  That doesn't mean I'm not perplexed by mundane issues plaguing good-hearted, hard working people.  I happen to have been there, done that a few times myself and wracked my head around the same thing.  Obviously they're phishing us back with the same old tired codes...I'm talking ones that became so well known, they became a gesture in normal conversation!  This is still NOT the Kobayashi Maru.



 

His experience has hurt him.
I hurt for him.

I've rarely seen that fear so profound. 

We're zen for the day

and here's my definition of true love.  Your mileage may very.


It came out in a philosopher's thinktank.
The question was "What is true love to you?"
People
kept a rather limited concept, mostly around romance and claiming some
one's heart. (I don't like monopolies and limitations when it comes to
love)

I haven't really edited it, so be kind if it's a little bumpy.  It just came out this way.


===========

True
love is the powerful energy rush you get when you feel you're headed
towards your destiny, when seeking true power...a bigger love. Love
resonates when you're truly on that path.

You feel it when you're on a mission to your power source.  If true
power is in the ability to uplift another, your mileage may vary as to
how you get there, what it looks like, how you go about it, and what
skills you learn to get from here to there. 

A student loves it's teacher for giving them the tools they need, and
the teacher is loved through the acceptance of their teachings.  The
student ACKNOWLEDGES the power of the teacher, by accepting it.  When
the respect for either breaks down, no one learns and no one teaches. 
There is no love there.


The great source of love gives you a guide to itself, empowering,
pulling you to it, like the attraction of a magnet, until you, yourself
are part of it.
One rarely falls in love with a thing they think will
not help them get from point A to point Z, but when true love is the
goal, we make many mistakes trying to get there...cutting corners,
cheating or buying their way to it.  That's a good way to lose your
way.  Many with that in mind end up with a lot of money, but very little
love.


"Love thy enemy" is in the acknowledgement of one who opposes you,
by giving them the respect they deserve.  Ignoring your opposition shows
lack of love.  "I don't see anything powerful enough to help or hurt
me....moving on" is what they experience.  A warrior, teacher, banger,
head of state, wannabe lover will feel, "Where is the LOVE?"


Because we adjust as we grow, course corrections happen. Since we
are on our own path, no one can really dictate how you get there, as
long as love is the goal.  One can guide, but dictating and lying about
love/god/enlightenment, is a sin against love. 

We have trouble accepting that sometimes. Sometimes we welcome the end
of what we feel was a mistake, when it was most likely part of your
learning experience. One can learn to love it anyway.  I knew it was
time to graduate by the second week of the month I gave the sperm donor
to move out, when I asked him "Are you still here?"


In the pursuit of true love, which we know so little about, our
lives are a learning experience of what it is and how to go about it.
Love is like the first taste of something sweet.  At first, we get a
snow cone and that's pretty good, but the goal yet to be realized is
DEATH BY CHOCOLATE.