Month: May 2010

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Something that has been resting on my mind for a while of late, for some reason; it’s just a small piece of wood that a friend gave me many Christmases ago. I’ve never forgotten what she said, the note scribbled on the back is dated 2004. and I’ve hung on to this little thing all these years, keeping it close to my most personal stuff, ike my fathers dog tags. Maybe it’s not worth a red cent to any thief, but I’m a sentimental cuss. Her words remind me, that as far short of the mark as we may fall, we can still make an impact for the better in peoples lives, and try to be better than we are.

Today, a different friend said something that brought that memory back to my mind. So I got up and fetched the memento out of my things, reading the back again, and the verse that is quoted on the front side. For some reason, I have never looked up the rest of the psalm that goes with that verse. Shameful really, when you consider that the book of psalms was one we had done in bible study together, lol. About ten or twenty minutes ago, I finally looked up the entire thing:

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you make the Most High your dwelling—
even the LORD, who is my refuge-

then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

Psalm 91

I think that is something I needed to hear. Coincidence or mental automata driving it, I don’t know, but it came at a rather precise moment.

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Now this would be a rather handy solution, if my laptop had some more expendable key to re-purpose as a compose ey. The right alt keys closeness to the arrow cluster, makes it a very handy way to “Go back” in history using any program that behaves like a web browser. And I couldn’t live without using my menu key to quickly access spelling corrections in pidgin >_>.

However if I could make xmodmap or something else to bind meta+menu into acting as a compose key, that would work.quite nicely.

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At long last, [SAS] has finally dropped my data from the mighty page.

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I’ve begun operational planning next courses of action, and have decided to accelerate and expand “Ravenclaw” in scope. Originally my intention was to kick off a round of increased physical / mental training after getting my license, as extra insurance against petrol resources being cut off before I can get a paying job.

It is so named Ravenclaw, because its attributes and impact resemble the positives of a raven and it’s sharp effective claws, and at worst, I’ll just end up food for ravens in the process. Walking any where here, tends to be dangerous outside of downtown: they’re finally making plans to start building more sidewalks in the rest of this place. The main problem isn’t so much that there is no safe place to walk near most areas, so much as you can’t trust the cars not to flatten you. In some places here, it’s almost suicidal. Given numbers to, value of travel * risk factor – value of life; should we say, the value of life increasingly becomes a smaller number in that expression, the more and more negative impact family has on my goals. I’ll take my chances.

The first in the series of travel plans is fairly short: about 2.5km, covering two main roads and two side roads. The destination of course, being the sole refuge of sanity in this city: the library. I’ve said for years, I could practically ‘live’ there! That distance should take less than 45 minutes, even if some lousy driver forces me to practice evasive manoeuvres that I haven’t done in many years. Probably will be a lot shorter, given my normal walking pace. At that range, even if I ran instead of walked, I also won’t need to worry about bringing water. I’m like a human camel, between growing up in Florida and the working hours I’ve had to pull over the years. As necessary to achieve my aims, I’m more that willing to go well over 25km each way on foot if need be. The library being the closet target, makes it the best testing mark to begin clocking my general traveling pace, so I can expand the data set towards proper time estimates. Ops will likely begin next week, and begin scaling from there.

For me, the only practical limitation to my traveling distance by foot, is legality (e.g. some roads are closed to pedestrian traffic) and endurance factors. I wouldn’t mind walking from here to Alaska if needed. When I fish out my old canteen, I think I’ll calculate it’s capacity. I also have an old militaresque bag designed to be slung, which makes transporting things easier: like carting my laptop with me or a coat for nastier weather. Carrying things over distance isn’t a problem, so much as there’s only so many places you can ‘carry’ it in with you. In Georgian weather on the other hand, I can cover plenty of ground at a walk, and not become overly dehydrated in the process, so I don’t worry much.

If I’m going to be fought at every step, I’ll damn well exercise what can’t be taken for me. Having a entrance key, also makes sure I can’t be locked out (so easily) in retaliation. As long as things are going this way, I’ll take chances on foot… it beats the alternatives.

I consider life here, under flag of war – feuer frei!

A very personal train of thought:

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Like an animal, I’m pacing a cage, trying to figure my way out of it forever more… Pattrick Henry’s words resounding inside my skull. There must be liberty, or there must be death, there is no third option in this world of tyranny.

When I’m of use, I’m taken out and dusted off for a spell, then I’m thrown again into the darkness, like so much rubbish. I don’t share my families mercenary ways, of going tit for tat, and so on. But after submitting my back to the lash for so many years, can’t I even be cared for, this little? No, I’m bound and that is it: that’s all anyone cares about here. I push to move forward, and all they can do, is tighten the chains about my neck in response. It’s like having a hand grasping my throat, cutting off the air to my lungs. The status quo must change, yet everyone seeks to keep it in check, less their bubble of power collapse.

There’s only been two things that I’ve desired in my life, and I’ve always been denied them. How often, have I argued that it will always be so? It’s like having your guts scrapped out with an ice cream scoop: only without death so quick to follow. What point is there to any of this, if it must always be the same prison?

After such painful loyalty, is it to much to ask, to move ones arse a bit? I’ve worked myself raw, I’ve worked beyond the point of collapse and kept on going, just to be trodden upon for it. No one ever cares, nor tries to understand what they do, it’s like staring into a brick wall: one without any ears to hear. At best just mentioning what this does to my soul, only makes me appear all the riper a whipping post. It’s like living as an asset, like an animal in a pen. Am I such a beast, that I must be locked away from the suns rays? Now I can only dream of the light, and at this rate: someday even that will be taken away from me.

If you treat someone like an animal for long enough, what will he become?

To love, to be hated
To yield your best, to be given bitter wine
To slave, to be buried beneath the rock
To taste salvation, only to have it ripped away
To call for justice, only to be imprisoned
To live, only to die
It’s been life in a nutshell.

— Terry P[snip] 2010-05-14

The simple facts for those that can’t see the path behind me:

  • My family has shown me enough about what it means to hate, that I gave up my vindictiveness a long time ago. People mellowing with age doesn’t change that.
  • You don’t know the meaning of ‘work’, unless you’ve hurt from head to toe, and still had to go hours more without ceasing. — to be insulted and cussed at the entire time, than made to do it again once you get home!
  • I have already been made to watch most positive parts of my world be pulled away, only to be converted into a solitary hermit: that may as well be kept under lock and key. That is as often as I may, and how often as I have the means to taste free air, and what the status quo has been kept at for years.
  • You don’t know what it means to serve, until you’ve done it 24/7/365 for years on end, only to be made utterly miserable the entire time. The only good thing I can say, is I’ve never had tomatoes thrown at me.
  • Real depression looks like hells deepest pit.
  • I have always been more concerned with why people decide to do things, rather than what things they decide to do. Cause is more important than effect.
  • Just to be able to get the measly amount of practice time that I have been getting (~1.5h/week), I’ve had to be prepared to sever all family ties, period.
  • Getting my family to do anything helpful when I need it, is like trying to carve Mount Rushmore with a toothpick.
  • I will not stoop to the devils play book.

Is it any wonder that my moods of late, have been such anti-images of blissful happiness? I’m fighting for my very right to live—against those who only need stall for a enough years more, to give them victory over me. Having to put up with that ‘why’ to the actions family takes, doesn’t go without cutting up a few scars along the way. Unlike my how my blood family tends to act, I don’t and won’t abuse people when my moods are horrible: it would violate my principals.

Putting a chipper smile on my face while I deal with such things, on the other hand is to much to ask.

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It’s been a somewhat productive day, but one that’s had me ready to bounce off walls for much of it. With HRP out of my hair for just over an hour, I was able to to move without having to exposing anything to the usual family-de-railing events, that tend to occur whenever my mothers abreast of my plans.

Managed to take care of the enqueued phone calls on my list, including finding info a friend had requested in the same matter. About half a dozen phone calls, and four bits of intelligence to gather, all of which were solved, except for the sole fun one o/. That will have to wait until another target of opportunity since the fishing hole is closed this time of week, but everything that was important got done. Having about 5 minutes to spare, before having to return to a rate of 3-5 interruptions a cycle + being cussed at all day, I also decided to proceed with a few other things that were supposed to wait until post-license.

The main problem, is still that damn license! Reaching the required mark of 40 hours, is proceeding at a rate of roughly 1 1/2 hours x 1 week = meaning 18 weeks more until I’ll have enough hours to apply for a license. Since 5 more of the remaining 27 hours to go, have to be night driving, it’ll probably take longer knowing my mother… I’ve got to find some way around this road block—and without lying about the amount of practice time I’ve had! Perhaps I might not be much good as a person, but when I say that I something, you can generally bet high that it’ll be truthful.

Things found whilst cleaning ~

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  • Backups of my old RvS and SWAT 4 keybinds, in Englush and German.
  • Old BF2  profile data backed up from 2009
  • A collection of xfire chatlogs dating back to 2007-2008; usually I trim my logs every couple of years
  • Copy of my bookmarks, left over from the original migration to ma.gnolia.
  • A copy of the first chat I had with a friend, dated 2008-08-17.
  • Various bits of TeX/LaTeX and troff/nroff documentation
  • Bundle of old programs, including my first C++ projects and many old Ruby, Perl, and Sh scripts.
  • An old document on backing up PC-BSD systems.
  • Some old software manuals, MicroEMACS, NFS systems, Nail, PHP, Java 1.5, ex, etc.
  • Old [SAS] Live Operation files: maps, opords, notes from testing various maps in SWAT 4.
  • An old draft resignation from when Snipers first draft of the SOPs were sent to Rouge for revision.
  • Birthdate of my desktop PC: 2006-02-11. Back than it was top of the line.
  • An old mock up for a personal home page
  • Draft of what hostage rescue on Raven Shields banking house mission, would look like in the near future.if done with real world tactics
  • Plenty of old photos

From all the files either deleted, or moved into cold-backup, I think my home directory is also another fifty megs lighter lol

Always beware of dreaming about a mansion….

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Just had a strange dream, but oddly one much more normal for me than what I’ve been having lately. Ended up investigating this large house in the dark as part of a pair, trying to find a way around. Eventually things ended up in day and a small party had formed, and we had gathered a small bit of ordinance, sawed off magnums (yeah baby), glocks, and colt autos.

While securing the mansions first floor, there was an odd situation at the basement, involving a pair of witch-like characters, that when forced into eye contact, caused them to go up in an aura of energy. Spider sense going bananas, of course I made sure the search party was ready for things to go nuts. Following up with plans to search the second floor, one of the party split off without orders and demonstrated quite a bit of mental instability, as well as being convinced at having been cryogenically frozen, and acting like an Alzheimer patent with a glock: not good.

This was however cut short, when groups of Zombies began amassing at the front doors  and breaking into the lobby, thus solving that little problem as a matter of their diet :-/. Ordering the party to fight a delaying action to the stairs, I took point up the stairs as zombies began all but coming out of the wood works! The plan was to get us to the roof before the cartridges ran out. Alternating between dual magnums, a 9mm glock, a .45 colt, and bundles of MKII fragmentation grenades, it was almost like watching Left For Dead with a night of the living dead style melee. Non of my hand to hand combat experience however, has involved a group of anythings trying to eat you..

In finally  fighting our way to the rafters of the roof, only to find zombies climbing the buildings side and busting through the windows and ammo low. A problem solved by sending some of our own through, to get to a chopper and bring it back for pickup of the rest. The only problem, being by the time we all got on the bird, there was only about  1 1/4 minutes fuel left :-D.

Crazy dream but in a way, more relaxing… and better than television.

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Hmm, one of these days I should really say the heck with it, and just make as much racket as needs to be done, and make myself breakfast around 0500-0600 local…. hey, I’m always getting woken up… why not?

Most of the times I’m hungry in the morning, I’m the only dipstick awake, so I wait. By the time it’s safe to make racket, I’m usually not hungry any more :-/