I enjoy engaging in both the act of fishing, and the act of making art.
Fishing is great fun; and so is making art.
The two are a lot a like however.
I never catch any fish, and I never sell any art.
Today I am trying a different kind of lure tho, if I manage to get to the store to get it.
Walmart is more convenient; but they fund Israeli propaganda; so I'm not too keen on shopping there; even for a one dollar lure.
Canadian Tire is good; but at least 2-3 kilometers out of the way, then another 2-3 kilometers to the fishing spot, which is approximately 4 kilometers from my abode.
I live across the street from the ocean inlet known as the Halifax Harbour, but I cannot fish there; as an enormous cargo yard sits between me and the ocean waters. It's kind of frustrating, but that is how it is when you are poor. Being rich get's you convenience.
Maybe based off that skewed logic I should put the extra effort into going to Canadian Tire, since I'm poor and suspicious of convenience.
The lure I was using, is too big for the fish; this was not obvious at first; as the fish the mackerel go for are about the same size as the lure on the line.
However, yesterday while fishing, the guy SITTING DIRECTLY NEXT TO ME; was pulling up fish like there was no tomorrow; while I sat there for HOURS not catching shit.
I saw his lure tho, tiny little silver thing; exactly like my buddy had described to me, only way smaller than I imagined it would, thus the larger lure on the line.
Something tells me I need to do the same for art; but how is the question; a German guy told me a story about an artist yesterday; and how as a younger man he lacked the maturity to sell his paintings, but the gusto to paint; so he painted; until he was mature enough to hold an auction sort of thing.
While the German guy was chatting, he showed my friend and I his new camera phone, which I looked up later; it shoots at 16 mega pixels.
I shoot with a 5 MP camera at the moment; and do recognize it's limitations; which I try to work into the photo itself; so I am well aware of digital photography and blah blah blah...
This thing was crazy as fuck tho.
Like seeing through whole new eyes or something; it was ridiculous.
Took incredible photos; every detail of the water's ripples was captured for a vast distance out into the harbour; this bastard even picked up the sun light and how it moved INTO the water.
Suffice to say, I want one.
It was an easy sale.
Before that my friend and I saw a guy riding a self propelled board thing, like a sideways skateboard; with electric motors and glowing blue LED lamps...
We've stumbled our way into the beginning of the cyber punk, science fiction future everyone was starting to doubt would ever arrive.
And I still donno how to catch a goddamn fish or sell a painting.
Patience.
All lessons come with time.
Hopefully a lot sooner than right before I die from old age.
This is the blog post that will most likely be responsible for my assassination; give the circles we will be dealing with.
Up until a few days ago, I only knew Waye Mason as: "That politician that constantly insults people online; and always shoots down good ideas, if they don't have anything to do with his special little district; in favour of terrible ideas that have to do with his special little district."
So I engaged him on social media, stating all his kind should be euthanized; as they are stopping the progress of our civilization; to which he responded to 'say that to his face' (Oooh; fightin' words... lolol...); but I didn't want to do the three hour round trip walk; because I was too hungry and only had so much food to last the last few days of survival; and because his behaviour on Twitter made it clear all I would get was 10 minutes of juvenile big mouthed politician, who wouldn't let me get a word in edge wise.
Remember; his job is literally not letting other people talk, so that he can talk.
I posted a previous blog entry, laying out exactly what I meant by my comment, and the, in my opinion, the why's and how's of our regressed progress.
Waye repeatedly refused to engage over this posting, deleting the link each time it was Tweeted to him; then finally banning my Twitter, calling my childish in his final message, which also declared the block (How grown up of you, Way......... lolololol...)...
So I contacted his Facebook page, which he had posted a video to, mocking that I did not show up; then had carried on a conversation with a follower, further mocking that I had not shown up; so I posted the link to the blog, and explained why I had not shown up; which he deleted, repeatedly; until he blocked me.
Then a fellow Thought Gang member took the initiative, and soon had Waye threatening to call the police on me, for thinking I was he.
Waye hates when someone responds to a challenge that Waye has issued.
After all this however; a local person approached me about my blog; giving me access to information.
There are a lot of rumours on the street level about Waye; he's got a long and sordid history among the populations of Halifax and Dartmouth; fleeting in their time; mostly living abroad; but getting his kicks in while he was here.
He says with the introduction, that he was born in Halifax/Dartmouth (He was born in two different cities?); then states he's 'lived abroad'; but doesn't get into specifics.
A few lines later, we see him stating he's been involved with the Halifax music community 'for since' 1989; implying he must have lived here since 1989 at least; but doesn't get into his pre-University era life much; 1989 seems to be where little Waye is born into the public light, at least in terms of internet public information about him. So he's still a mystery man; allegedly from Halifax/Dartmouth, one or the t'other.
Waye then goes on to not only make a joke about viewing his posts with suspicion (Some would say all jokes contain a kernel of truth.)...
...but then goes on to brag about attempting to break the law (Which I am pretty sure is still breaking the law; as people get arrested and charged for attempted murder this, that and the other; all the time.) by hacking into Dalhousie University... Which my esteemed cousin Ernest Guptill; help set up the physics lab of; so I find this personally insulting on some vague ancestral level; chalk it up to viking genetics... "j/k".... lolololol...
Okay, so onto the real dirt.
Further rumour on the street has it Waye is gunning for the Mayoral position of our nepotistic little city (That is foreshadowing, folks...) and might even have dreams of hitting up Federal politics one day.
But first...
An interlude.
And the part that is going to be responsible for my assassination.
What kind of stock does Waye come from?
What's his breeeeeed?
He positions himself publicly as Dartmouth boy (Dare I say, hoodrat; even.) done good; and full achievement of the dream that is entering local politics to help his community through the manipulations and machinations of being a local representative.
Ooookay; so maybe he is... Or maybe he's part of an extremely wealthy and influential family who's very existence, should Waye enter Federal level politics, be a professional conflict of interest for his career?
"That's CRAAAAA-ZZZ-YYYY!" you say to me through the computer monitor as you put your coffee mug back down; and enjoy the warmth of it flowing to your stomach.
Well according to publicly obtainable information online; the previous statement is not only true, but not even close to the full craaziness that is Waye Mason's family and thus connected financial interests.
Lord Jeazhus Fuck; don't let me be assassinated over this.
If my apartment is blown up by a drone strike, or I vanish under mysterious circumstances; or am killed 'by a heart attack' (They have heart attack guns you know, look it up...); or anything, anything, anything, anything out of the ordinary of me being alive and existing happens; THIS IS THE REASON WHY...
Are you still with me?
Sorry for going all Alex Jones there...
I'm not use to dealing with this kind of content, I'm more of a 'farm conspiracy' kind of guy...
*Deep breaths*
Okay...
I'm going to go have a smoke first, and pour myself a coffee; I will be right back...
According to Lynn Mason's Wikipedia ARTICLE (The man has an article, not a user name profile... Jeazhus... What are we dealing with here, some kind of historically relevant character? ... More foreshadowing...)... He has been, is, was, or heralded to be eventually:
So basically he was in charge of everything in the Navy, ever.
The last sentence is the one of interest though; it's so subtle; doesn't suggest anything; "How boring." you say; "CarteNav Solutions? What an innocuous name. It makes maps I bet."
/Spanish accent No, my friend! /Spanish accent
CarteNav is a terrifying weapons solution corporation; based out of lovely Halifax, Nova Scotia.
I would take screen shots of their website; but they've got copyright notices on everything; and are particular about using images without permission; and they can blow up my house from a thousand kilometers away... So I will just copy and paste bits of text here, from their own publicity page:
Starting with the opening line: "From our base in Halifax, Nova Scotia, CarteNav has built a solid reputation..."
Your "base"? How come if I set up a base, the Government raids me, but you get to set up a base; you USED to work for the Government, and I thought only the Government was allowed to set up bases; for our protection of course; which is why they are all nestled in among high density poverty stricken neighbourhoods; I'm sure; so you obviously can protect the poor and weak FIRST, and not so that when and if someone attacks your base; they conveniently blow up all the poor people you don't want to deal with as refugees anyway; while trying to hit your base in their back yard...
Going on: "Our signature products, AIMS-ISR® and AIMS-HD, maximize the performance and decision-making capabilities of defence, security and industry clients the world over. "
Yeah, no; I have not a sweet clue what that means either... We're going to have to consult the Oracle Of Google...
How eerie... There is no Wikipedia article on it; like an F-16 or other weapon system...
Which is fine and dandy; I mean; I'd rather our super Navy ships, presumably soon to be geared with AI to drive themselves; and go utterly rogue, etc etc; et al; so on and so forth; then the damn OTHER TEAM, whoever they are right now, have them; those fuckers; I hate that other team; they are not our team or our flags!
OUR FLAGS ARE THE BEST FLAGS!!!
I'm getting off track here; it's that last coffee I drank...
After scouring the Google for Waye's position on the recent 2011 $25 billion dollar Navy ship contract; and not finding him taking any official position on such a matter; (His silence speaks volumes in this context.) which is not 'on the surface' surprising; as he was not involved in local politics on any authority level until 2012; what I did find was an old forum posting; under the imaginative user name....... "Waye Mason"...
Brilliant internet handle; it's genius; very cutting edge.
"It is so much money that the various power elites, cliques, special interest groups and old bous won't have to change ANYTHING, we can use the cash to paper over our fundamental, foundational issues as a society and a province."
Yes Waye... Yellow highlights indicate his interest; oh boy; so much money; won't have to change ANYTHING; especially the growing weapons industry in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
"One of Nova Scotia’s fastest-growing industries is defence, security, and aerospace, which generates $600 million in annual revenues and has a workforce of more than 6,000. Add in the Department of National Defence, with a workforce of 9,000 and annual revenues of $1 billion, and you can see why international companies are interested.
In April, CAE, a leader in modelling, simulation, and training for civil aviation and defence, announced that it’s expanding its defence-and-security team in Halifax. In 2013 Jazz Aviation LP consolidated its London, Ont., and Halifax heavy maintenance bases in Halifax.
Another sign of the growing local industry is the Canadian Defence Security and Aerospace Exhibition Atlantic, which has become the second-largest defence industry trade show in Canada with upwards of 1,500 people attending and 100 exhibitors. “It’s a business-to-business event,” says Colin Stephenson, the exhibition’s executive director. “We’re a gateway event. Firms from Europe or South America interested in doing procurement [with the Canadian government] come here to learn how.”
CarteNav Solutions Inc., a Halifax-based technology company whose specialized software is used by the Canadian military and firms worldwide, is experiencing exciting growth and looking to hire. The company had a breakthrough with one of its biggest customers, L-3 Communications Holdings Inc., last year and expects sales to jump. “It’s a growth period for us,” says former Canadian navy commander and CEO Lynn Mason. “We’re excited about the future.” "
Red highlight indicates his interest in lining daddy's pockets; but stating a vague social cause for the surface reasons for supporting it.
Here I was thinking he was going to bash the elites and what not; but then sings their praises; what a man of the people!
I thought this was the end of the article, but I poked a few more pages through the discussion and found these gems...
Gonna pour some more coffee; and then get to this part; in closing.
Oh of course; if "The Province" were flush with cash; everything would be peachy... Currently Nova Scotia generates 2+ billion dollars per year off income tax alone... 921,727 people live in Nova Scotia; not all of them are even paying income tax; most of us are on welfare and employment insurance (As goes the national joke.)... Assuming everyone did pay income tax; and equally; that works out to... $2169.839876666301 a year... Per person... Then there are property taxes, sales taxes, gas taxes, smoke taxes, taxes, taxes, taxes; very low corporate taxes though; and our billionaires seem to be let off easy, going so far as Clearwater's owner; to help snub the local film tax credit, while raking in multi-millions, for his own interests in said tax credits.
A leader....... LIKE WAYE... To lead the way... The way out of the economic activity mire; with huge Navy contracts, that his family will not benefit from in anyway, shape or form!
Uh.......... Oh yeah?... I donno what this means; technically; but what it tells me is Waye is well acquainted with the military equipment; and the needs of Government, which can only be met through private contracts (In the interest of the average Nova Scotian, of course.) that involve rebuilding the entire Navy, preferably.
I would say "Joining the 21st Century" would involve NOT building further sophisticated Big Brother 1984 Government Super Sense Machines; and would NOT involve killing people in other countries for profit and personal gain; and WOULD involve seeing our planet as a living organism; which we are an intricate part of as a whole; and are a single multi-cellular Gestalt; who has only so much space on this planet to exist; and if we do not work together to establish a firm foot hold in space; will run out of the resources required to do so; and thus be stuck here; hating each other in close proximity, forever; and since Waye's dad's generation blew up all the previously obtainable resources; and now focus on blowing up more of them; we can be sure they will run out of ammunition, eventually one day; even though it can be made out of dirt; it will be a long way off from now; so we will never enjoy peace as long as we let these little boys with big toys continue to run amok for cash money.
That's how I'm ending this motherfucker of a blog entry.
Jeazhus; I thought this was only going to be a few paragraphs at most.
So much for rumours...
All information in this blog entry has been taken from publicly available sources online, no copy right infringement is intended at any point, and all links and references are for sourcing information for news media use only.
With Nova Scotia Power's rising rates; I need some kind of job that will pay the bills.
So applied to this video game company in Montreal.
From that I hope to save enough to buy land to start an off grid farm, either on the St. Lawrence in Quebec, or somewhere in the Maritimes on one of our mighty rivers.
Might start off grid farms in both; who knows,
This means I need a portfolio, proper to their company; which develops science fiction and medieval fantasy games; I sent them links to my regular art; but let them know I'd have a portfolio developed specifically for them within a couple weeks.
Since this is the sort of stuff I like drawing all day anyway; it sounded like a good idea to apply there; plus my muse found the posting, and I'm not going to argue with her on it.
In the last two days, just off the top of my head I drew these two fuckers; and have plenty more coming; each of these concept drawings will also require what is called a character sheet; which shows the unit from front, side, and three quarters view; generally speaking; and then breaks down any particular small details.
This guy is a Tank style Knight; with the idea he can block with his head as well as his forearm shield; and keep on trucking; no idea why there is a feather on the top; just felt right; he's a fancy fellow; and even while butchering his way through the enemy hoards, he likes to have a feather in his cap; to keep it classy; even if his cap is a giant steel bucket covered in ax and sword scars.
His forearm shield is both strong, and highly agile; also offering up offensive options; including large spiked knuckles. While his right shoulder pauldron with it's large array of spikes; gives him the opportunity to crash into opponents with a deadly running shoulder tackle attack.
This man is a metal bear covered in weaponry; because for terrifying bad guys, you need and even more terrifying good guy.
The original description for this image is written as a advertisement for a combat systems company.
===============================
Built for operation as a high speed, ultra mobility, disposable weapons platform.
Designed to over whelmed the customer's opponents through numbers, and sheer exhaustion.
Combat Corporation's advanced AI Hive Mind ensures that each unit is hyper aware of it's surroundings and conditions on the Corporate Battle field; ensuring that even though disposable; each unit has a long lasting cycle rate.
Each forearm contains a weapons mount plate; for the customer to enjoy a high degree of configurable options; from all out heavy guns; to a wide variety of power tools; all available from Combat Corporation.
Quadrabot is ready for anything you can throw at it.
Quadrabot's aesthetic design was generated from Combat Corporation's extensive research and mapping of the human psyche; from user data obtained through our massive online social networks; utilizing unblinking staring eye ball, and confusing off balance geometric patterns and colours to unsettle, intimidate, and even hypnotize the enemy of the customer's choice.
Ensure your hostile corporate take over is successful, order your legion of Quadrabots today!!
None of this would have happened if Waye had just ignored my initial tweet to him; or had responded in a civilized fashion; but he didn't; he challenged me; and basically declared war upon me; along with his followers; and so this blog entry was born; so Waye; thank yourself; for being your own worst enemy.
I will attempt to keep this brief; on point; succulent; and logical.
To clarify, I have no political affiliation, I`m not even an Anarchist; not a Communist, not a Nazi, not a Conservative, a Liberal, a NDP, I vaguely trust the Green party; simply because they have not gotten into power yet to prove if they are corrupt or not; I think politics are fucking stupid and a pathetic children`s game of drama; but as politics, especially in this modern era; dictates the very environment and culture I am surrounded by; I have no choice but to be immersed in this world of utter contemptuous bullshit... An arena of clowns, with billions of dollars, and enormous military power and capacity for fatal levels violence.
I am of no religion, or any other group; I am that guy that Just Wants To Be A Farmer, but it's like everything possible, up to and including Governments that want a civil war, would like to stand in the way of such a simple goal.
This crossed my news feed the day after writing this blog.
This is written, simply because trying to interact with Waye, or his followers, or most any politician; is like getting into an argument with a 7 year old who can only respond be insulting the critical thinker; over, and over, and over, and over again; with little to no variation; literally at times responding with copy pasta'd responses from 4chan... I'm not even making that up... 40-50 year old men, involved in the running of our city; responding with 4chan insults... Waye has literally called another Canadian politician (Rob Ford of all people...) a "Douche Bag"... Publicly... On his Twitter... I'm not intending to focus specifically on Waye, but he did inspire this piece, after I tweeted him that all politicians should be euthanized for the nation's own good; to which he declared something about "Saying that to his face"; however the meeting point is an hour and a half walk from my apartment, and I'm currently calorie deficient in my diet, due to being too focused on other tasks at hand to be bothered making proper amounts of food... And being too poor to 'just buy convenience food'; I'm on the goddamn grind, bitch.
One of his followers even threatened me with violence and that he`d `beat me like a cat with a mouse`; if I remember the exact words correctly.
(Update:
The local politics Facebook page: "What Matters To The Citizens Of The HRM & Nova Scotia"; which I enjoy reading, but am not a part of; has been utterly removed from Facebook today; in what appears to be a blatant act of political oppression of the rights to free speech and protest.
Waye obviously is behind this, as the page had brought to light many of his stupid comments, insults and petty behaviour and one of the moderators of WMTTCOTHRM had an on going online dispute with him via Twitter from what I've seen.
Updated Update:
The Dartmouth Liberation Front Facebook page has ALSO been expunged from existence; this page having contention with Waye for his heavy handed and ignorant approach to their displeasure of having been intentionally rebranded as "Halifax"; despite massive outcry to the contrary.
Seems Waye is on the war path; I wonder if this blog will also be eradicated by the Mighty Iron Fisted Waye of Halifax?
Updated To This Updating: Both pages are back online; unknown causes for their blocking; presumably Waye had something to do with it; he's evil and manipulative like that.
I suppose he will have the HRMPD come murder me, then swear under oath I had attacked them outright to start with, even though I will be sleeping at the time of murder most likely; as my previous experience with HRMPD has shown.
Updated Updated Update:
Waye keeps deleting this link from his Twitter, to hide this blog from his followers; even though he wanted a dialog, even though all he had to say were slurs and insults; he then banned me from his Twitter page; and further leveled more insults when stating he was doing so.
We've got ourselves a real Censor of Dissent.
Jeazhus... Updates...:
Waye made a passive aggressive video, posted to his Twitter and Facebok, in a juvenile attempt to mock me for not showing up; and committing to the three hour round trip walk to meet him so that he could, presumably, not let me talk; as that is what politicians try to do, consistently; and I presume all that would come out of his mouth, would be a torrent of childish shit; as that is all his online activity consists of.
Speaking of which; Waye appears to spend 98% of his working day on Twitter and Facebook trolling, and then banning people; issuing challenges; and then getting bent out of shape when they are responded to; ala this blog post.
Waye Mason demonstrating the blank mind, wall eyed stare of your average bovine politician.
Is this the kind of person you think should be in Government?
A childish, insipid, game playing little turd?
This man has some serious compensation issues, which he is attempting to resolve through holding positions of public power; much like many of our politicians; this sort of mind set needs to be removed from politics altogether; people should have to pass some sort of basic intelligence test to hold a position of any relevance and then closely monitored during their employ for any signs of degenerate behaviour.
More Fucking Update:
Waye has now banned me from his Facebook account, where he is openly mocking me for 'not showing up'; through the video and also text comments with his supporters; and after I left comments explaining why, again; and left the link to this page, he proceeded to delete it all and block me, again.
Pretty indignant of him; to issue a challenge, than react this way; while gloating about how great he is and how I did not show up; despite my explaining to him, last night; why I wouldn't be making the three hour round trip walk.
When a fellow member of Thought Gang posted this blog to his Facebook page; in defiance of the censorship, Waye personally messaged him back and said the following; (Claiming the other member was me, just as previously his followers had claimed I was someone I've never heard of before; then proclaimed me a liar for stating I'm not that person; even though my account details are all public and visible.) threatening to call the police, for dissent; as per the tyrannical psychopath that he is:
"So I take it you are in fact Stephen. Stephen, get help. If you contact me again I will send the police to talk to you. Not to kill you as per your blog, that will never happen. But because you need help."
You know you've got a real tough guy; when he's a politician who will talk shit, publicly, incessantly; while demanding you respond, then blocking you when you do; then if an ally steps in, he automatically goes and draws the police card; only a cowardly chicken shit acts like a tough guy while standing behind a wall of armed goons.
Calling the police, for an act HE REQUESTED IN THE FIRST PLACE; then would not allow the expression of?
While HIS followers are the one's making threats of physical violence, at that!
Audacious, really.
He is truly a pathetic and weak individual, and the lowest form of intelligence I have come across in our Government so far; frightening really.)
Over all; I donno what this says about them; or me (That I know what 4chan is, or can recognize content from there to start with..........); but I know that 4chan shouldn't be running the city; ever...
No offense 4chan; but you are just not a responsible adult; but then again, when 4chan puts it's collective mind together; it can wreak total havoc... I've never seen them build anything; but havoc they do well... So it's prolly best our politicians do not hail from that corner of the internet... As they will just create havoc; which explains everything going on...
After reading enough political drama bits and pieces around the web; about who tweeted what to who, who then responded via Facebook about whatever, who then retorted indigently over Instagram...
Then reports about their actual 'jobs' come out; and it's clear no progress is being made politically on the Municipal, Provincial, or Federal levels; because motherfuckers are too busy attempting to sabotage one another's plans, while pushing their own plans; regardless if their plan is superior or not; with a war monger like attitude of Death Before Failure. Harper, the 'leader' of Canada; even goes so far as to make speaking about the reality of environmental impacts of Big Oil, illegal; and restrict information about the reality of the situation.
WHO THE FUCK THINKS THEIR OPINION IS GREATER THAN THE SUM TOTAL REALITY?
I would like to point out when it comes to representation of rich ridings, over poor ridings; typically we see a rich riding have substantial influence and sway over political dealings; while the poor get the shit end of the stick in every way imaginable.
This is not Feudal Japan.
The politicians are not Samurai that must serve their Lord or commit Seppuku; although the world would be a better place if the politicians did commit Seppuku; preferably in public and filmed, then uploaded to the internet.
Government is supposed to be a cohesive entity; focused entirely on maintaining infrastructure and quality of life.
It has no business in business.
It also has no business in the personal affairs of the people, or any business in religion.
Business and religion also have no business with Government.
This should be a simple and clear objective; maintained with the utmost diligence; however; one only has to look around to see the lack of ability and capacity to focus on any form of goal, that all three levels of Government have.
This is not an Elementary School Popularity Contest.
Politicians are destroying people's lives daily with their impotent personal dramas.
At the Federal level; Harper claims ISIS is the biggest threat to Canadians; while utterly ignoring the devastation being wrought by Lyme Disease; which has made it so I, for example, can no longer enjoy my favorite past time of sitting in fields, and forests; without the constant threat of an infected tick slipping onto me, and passing the bacteria along, thereby rendering the rest of my life a living Hell if not caught in time.
At the Provincial level; we see tax credits that benefit the poor being cut in favour of tax credits for Clearwater Seafood and other local Nova Scotian Billionaire owned Feudal States.
Out west at the Provincial level we see the problem of privatization leading to massive forest fires burning out of control for days and weeks at a time; the water bombers being used are tiny sea plane sized vehicles; while the large water bombers are still grounded, due to contract disputes with private companies.
Literally; as the province of British Columbia burns, and people's lives and well being are being directly threatened, greedy people are in board rooms arguing over dollars and cents.
Here in Halifax, Nova Scotia; we have seen privatized contracts take over snow removal, and lawn care.
The lawns are over grown, which combined with the Lyme Disease outbreak, of which Halifax is a hot zone; creates a perfect storm of devastation; the future cost of Lyme Disease alone in terms of medical expenses should have politicians shitting their pants in terror.
Not only will a large portion of the work force be physically incapable of work, but will also be draining Health Care at an utterly incomprehensible rate.
The snow removal gets even sketchier; as a simple Google search will reveal to the determined reader, that professional Weather Modification services can be used to generate a foot of precipitation for mere pennies; while snow removal contractors charge hundreds of thousands of dollars per acre to perform their society enabling task.
Halifax allegedly got more snow this winter, than the rest of Nova Scotia; which is odd; as we are right on the Atlantic Ocean, and thus rarely get the heavier snow fall levels of inland Nova Scotia; particularly any of the mountainous regions.
It doesn't take a genius to see how a snow contractor could invest very little money into making it snow over the city; so that he can 'make it rain'; so to speak; in his bank account.
This is further complicated suddenly; now that you, the reader, knows that Weather Modification is a reality now; and not just a pipe dream (It's been a technological reality for well over 100 years now, with many inventors from the 19th century altering local weather. This article will not get into weather magic and only focus on mechanical capacity.); being used to reduce hail size in Western Canada; and to "Manage UV Radiation" around the globe; we now must wonder:
"Why is Weather Modification being used to fight the forest fires raging out west?"
What is the behind the rooms thinking and dealing that has lead to this out come?
A few nights ago a fire started where my friend is; it was caused by lightening.
Before the fire started, when it was raining, we joked that 'it might be the same storm'; I checked the weather radar for fun; and saw that the storm over her was extremely localized.
It was literally the ONLY cloud cover for hundreds, if not thousands of square kilometers.
It was also pretty well the same size as the body of water it was hovering over.
Cloud Seeding is the act of spraying Aluminum Bromide in the sky, so that moisture collects into rain clouds; making it very easy to create a storm over a body of water; I've watched many operations use the Bay of Fundy as a sort of 'mixing cauldron'; for lack of better words.
This ALMOST causes me to wonder if the storm which triggered the fire itself had been artificially generated.
The fact they are not generating rain to fight the storms; and the fact that crews are currently under manned, and under machined; seemingly constantly and intentionally; while media focus goes on Harper's visit (Which distracted the few men on the ground working, for a photo op......); does make me wonder about these wild fires.
ALMOST as if someone is intentionally setting forest fires, and intentionally retarding any efforts to contain them.
BUT I DIGRESS.
The next subject at hand is the constant poisoning of the population; while Government regulates our lives on a micromanagement level 'for our own good'.
You cannot legally smoke and grow weed; a simple flower; but it is okay for a corporation to sell you a flea collar dosed with a chemical weapon nerve agent created by the Nazis (Who shelved it for being too sketchy.); and for that corporation to cause thousands (Of recorded.) deaths of pets and I'm willing to bet, people; after my own personal experience with such a flea collar.
While our food is filled with Soy, which mimics estrogen, and causes sterility in both sexes, and the effeminization of the male human organism.
While our food is sprayed/grown with chemical weapons left over from the World Wars.
While the Government has publicly known since 1963/64 that tobacco causes cancer because of the chemical fertilizer it is grown in, WHICH IS THE SAME CHEMICAL FERTILIZER OUR FOOD IS GROWN IN.
Do not even fucking get me started on GMO farming; I've witnessed it's effects first hand, and I would rather be in a war zone fighting for my life; than live around a GMO field again.
At least in a war zone I can shoot back without the RCMP raiding my house constantly.
Although I suppose if Canada was a war zone; that is what would be happening either way; Hell; they've raided my house already, well before Bill C-51; and we are not even close to a war zone; so I fully expect if Canada is ever a war zone, the RCMP to just bomb my apartment outright within five minutes of the conflict starting...
Sort of like when they tried to bomb Sam Steinberg in the 70s...
POINT IS:
Government IS NOT protecting us from anything; Government is enabling the Mass Murderers who are the industrialists; who are the Big Oil; Big Farm; Big Pharma Corporations to slaughter us by the millions; 7 million people die each year globally from air pollution alone; while banning us from substances produced by the Earth herself, such as cannabis and magic mushrooms; while regulating us to an increasingly short list of Government Approved Religions (Islam might be about to get booted off that list.......); which instill blind subservience to false authority.
While they give the Industrialists, and Bankers billions of tax payers dollars; allowing strip mining, disastrous large scale industrial fishing, clear cutting forests; while fucking the tax payer out of benefits, social programs and general well being, leaving us with increasing grocery store bills, unpayable electric bills, impossible to escape high rent, laws that forbid even gold panning, basic spear fishing, or removal of a single tree from `Crown Land`, and cities that act more like cemeteries of human souls; still trapped in living bodies; to grind out their lives in minimum wage jobs to serve the interests of the few rich people wearing suits.
The city is the rich man's amusement park, and everyone in side of that city who is not the rich man, is a goof ball wearing a Mickey Mouse suit, for the entertainment and degenerate pleasure of others.
Dance monkey, dance.
The industrial polluted hand of our corrupt civilization stretches out to even the depths of the forests and hinterlands; forbidding simple people from living off the land; and what they can`t forbid with laws; they pervert with pollution.
Our doctor`s take the Hippocratic Oath, to never repeat the horrors of the Nazi science programs again; yet to this very day; they continue to do these very horrific experiments; including their mass drugging of the population with chemicals that have unknown side effects and consequences; all under the guiding hand of Government.
I will avoid getting into the giant mansion tax payers built down town and maintain for "The Queen"; who visits once every few years for a day or two; which recently was renovated; as an example of the bullshit of this building; they installed a THREE THOUSAND DOLLAR TOILET...
The average welfare recipient receives at most nine thousand dollars A YEAR; to survive and barely exist on.
YET; they are willing to spend three thousand dollars for an old fuck to sit on and shit into... Once every few years...
I suppose I will be arrested now for calling "The Queen" an "Old Fuck"... But that's how it is now...
It's quite mind boggling to see how content everyone is here; and how oblivious they all are to constantly being fucked over, daily, minute by minute with out any lube or warm up.
They accept it when they do become aware of it.
My Uncle Allen (R.I.P.) was the only adult who told me the truth as a kid; and in particular, one sunny day on Grand Manan Island; while we watched the Government argue on TV, he looked me dead in the eye; and without missing a beat said: "Steve.... The Government is full of shit."
Feel free to leave a comment and mention ANY ONE THING Government has EVER done that is good.
I've spent months trying to find something; and every time I THINK I found a good action by the Government, it always turns out some evil, despicable action was behind it, or the over all intention of it.
The average Canadian wants to relax, enjoy life, drink some brew, be it booze or magic potion, rest in nature; and frankly; not get pulled into a goddamned civil war because the psychopathic Government is high on coke at three in the morning, conspiring with the RCMP head chiefs over 'anti Canadian petroleum activists and Natives' plotting the utter destruction of society, culture and humanity as a whole.
I suppose I will be head bagged for posting this article; it`s been a good run; see you all in Secret Terrorist Prison Camp.
Okay... Pretty sure that is it... Cannot find any missing pebbles in this stone garden; if something comes to mind later; it will be updated; and the link reposted to Waye`s twitter account, as need be.
My thirst for water had taken on almost ravenous proportions.
Flushing the toilet for several minutes straight I ran the bottle in the upper half of the stream.
Upon closer inspection; the water was clear.
Fairly digestible looking; not floatsums.
Upon smelling it became clear this water was not good to drink.
Eventually my stomach tried to puke from not eating or drinking.
This produced little; as there was no food or water present.
The officers then started taking all the other prisoners out; a couple at a time.
Incidently in pairs that had been at each other all night.
What were the Police engineering?
More arrestes?
Higher quota?
Or were they bored bastards who actually enjoyed the concept of creating crimes to solve?
Around this time it became apparent that all the other prisoners had been left with their jackets, sweat tops and hoodys; while everything of mine had been taken away; being left with my under shirt; which was long sleeve thankfully; pants, socks and reminents of my sneakers.
It was freezing in that place.
After a very long time; and after everyone else was gone; they came and got me.
A soft younger Officer came and gently asked if I would behave should they let me out.
Presuming this ment I would not bomb the police station; I agreed.
He took me back out to the booking room.
Officer Robocop sat behind a desk.
The Gentle Officer politly asked me if I still wanted to talk with Mental Health Services as I had requested the day before when brought in.
"Um... I can assure you I did not request such a thing." I informed them.
"We can have the clinical nurses come in and have a talk with you." he gently implied again.
"Err... No thanks man; my family doctor says not to talk to strangers, you know what I mean? I just wanna get out of here and go crash."
"Are you sure? We can have them here very soon for you; and you can talk about all your problems with our nurses." he again insisted.
The plural really bothered me.
"Whoa now; I'm good thanks; most likly talking about the problems will only make it worse. You know; reflect it back on me from them so it gets worse?"; I informed the Gentle Officer; gently.
He nodded in response.
"Well; while we get your items why don't you wait in this room; that won't make you feel uncomfortable will it?" he gestured to a red door; a window looked in from the booking room and contained a sign.
"Holding Cell."
No good.
"Okay; I can do that."; was the some what delayed response.
In he took me; closing the door and returning to the booking room.
Officer Robocop and the Gentle Officer both took up position at computer terminals.
I could see the screens; and it appeared they were doing some kind of information seeking; a record or some kind of report on myself.
The Gentle Officer looked back over his shoulder after reading a lengthy piece of information; he shot me a nervous; almost threateningly nervous look.
At the exact same moment Officer Robocop proceeded to pick up a phone; glance at me once; and dial a number.
The walls started shrinking again.
Just like in the cartoons.
These guys are amatures.
The Gentle Officer went back over to the red door; and opened it.
Looking him in the eye, with a rather strained pair of eyes; I nodded in thanks for opening the door, collected my items and proceeded to head outside where I had been instructed I could put my shoe laces on.
Apparently if everyone put their shoe laces on INSIDE there would be massive back ups of people; however if they put their shoe laces on OUTSIDE there are no massive back ups of people.
Before leaving I approached the Gentle Officer and asked for the badge numbers of the charming fellows who arrested me the day before.
He responded that he has no information pertaining to that (You know; like an arrest report; or incident sheet which an officer would have filled out after the altercation.) and handed me a phone number for a complaints line which I was to complain to; without knowing who did what to me.
Huh... They really don't like to make things easy.
I emerged free at 10:30 a.m.
Around 18.5 hours after first being told it would be 4.
Truly; a strange land this "Jail" was.
All this because I reached for my back pack; and rookie cop had to show his masterful hunting skills to his new masters and trainers.
Bravo; young sir.
Your efforts have been noted.
It is clearly time that the Police and Government in general awoke once again to the fact that the People control the system; the system was not designed to control the people.
As I walked home I vowed to no break the law against our more violent human tendencies; this would give them an excuse to take me back to that horrible place.
I will not remain silent as they attempted to drill into my head however; as the tyrany of Government over the minds; and realitys of all the people of our plant must end; before it puts an end to everything we are.
The People made the Government; the Government did not make the People.
For an unknown amount of time I sat alone in this strange new place; recalling a dream from 3 years ago of being held in a prison camp of some kind; where I was 33 years old and trying to keep a child alive. I was not like the other prisoners in this dream; something was different, but I could not differentiate what that difference was at the time. During these initial moments I discovered the toilet; the buttons on the toilet; one for flushing; two for the alleged water tap and sink combo; perched directly over the toilet. Only one of these buttons worked.
"May I please talk with someone??? I would like some INFORMATION about my SITUATION! Freedom of Information is one of our rights in this country is it not?"
Several moments later a pleasant; possibly French Canadian with impeccable mastery of the English language; which frankly showed the glaring intellectual handicaps of his English speaking counterparts; approached my cell and asked what I would like to know. I asked how long was I to be held in the cell; and if there was anyway I could possibly get out faster. Kindly he offered to me I had a minimum of 4 hours; if I behaved; however if I should cause trouble there was potential for a 24 hour visit. This seemed reasonable. So I sat on the hard metal bed, couch, dinning room table thing for a long time until another prisoner was brought in.
I am not sure if the kind possibly French Canadian Officer left before or after the new prisoner was brought in; I was lost in thought for the most part plotting massive terrorist attacks and the like which after some time and deliberation were deemed unfeesable; and without any windows and doors my sense of time and space was starting to drift.
After awhile visitors showed up for the other prisoner; and the new in charge Officer; he was a pudgy; bespectacled man of a pot bellied nature and a demenour to match. The visitors repeatedly demanded food and water for their friend; which after a long time was delivered.
One Power Bar; with massive amounts of manly nutrients in it, and one 500ml bottle of water; as per instructed on the aforementioned Power Bar, for each of us. This was greatly appreciated; as I had only just eaten breakfast and not yet reached my lunch time; and the stress from the arrest had drained most of that food based nutrients.
From time to time the new guard; Officer Gestapo Pig, would walk down the hallway leading to my cell to the point where it seemed he would enter the block and potentially open the door; as suggested by the keys he carried in hand with purpose each time he did this.
After much time more prisoners were brought in. This time a group; very sociable and talkative.
Bordom took over and I could not focus on being lost in though from all the noise being produced by other prisoners; hooting and hollering; and so forth.
I let out a couple animal calls; and they responded in kind; so back and forth in what to me appeared as a game of animal calls we hooted.
Officer Gestapo Pig came back to inform me that he will not tolerate any noise whatsoever from me; none; zip; if I wanted to get out I had to be completely quiet.
He left; without instructing any other prisoners to be utter silent.
This seemed rather strange to me; others were allowed to make noise; even openly and daringly taunting the Police; however never once insisting to them that the pen was mightier then the sword. Which I had done at this point several times; out in the booking room at least once when taunted by Officer two for "Being an Artist." and then a couple times while being taken down the hallway; then a couple times to Officer Gestapo Pig.
So with the passing of time; the second prisoner was taken away; and the group continued to hollar and have fun; while Officer Gestapo Pig came down any time I said something and informed me of the utter silence being imposed upon me. So I mostly poked around looking for escape routes; should my tenure in this cell become a permanent part of my life; which it was starting to feel like given the amount of information being detailed to me and the attitude of Officer Gestapo Pig.
Officer Gestapo Pig brought in another prisoner.
He was quiet; and the only one in quiet conversational range. However he was not a talking person and so for a long time all was silent except the disembodied voices of people having a strangely good social horse play time down the hallways; these bounced around in a sea of sound that was so systematically disorienting and alien feeling to my senses that eventually my mind began to feel odd.
My attempts through out the night to get any more water were met with hostile answers that I had a water tap; however none of these random Officers seemed capable of even spending a single second listening to another human being.
So I sat contemplating how sanitary the toilet water REALLY was.
It SEEMED clean; however closer inspection showed that even a stainless steel toilets can retain some stain. This was not; at this point a viable option.
The other cells around the area had started filling up; prisoners were yelling and hollering at each other; all and everyone being loud; and once again; Officer Gestapo Pig would come around to walk near my door way with his keys tauntingly then walk off saying I had to behave.
This was when things started getting rather weird for me personally. Everything up to this point was fine.
Suddenly.
A officer walked down the hallway.
A prisoner asked what time it was; the Officer stated:
"About quarter to one."; very casually and walked off.
All day I had been asking for the time as my internal clock was going haywire from the glaring lights and lack of a view outside. Ignored every time I started feeling disoriented from that also.
Without any warning; as much was today when dealing with the Police.
A feeling. Perplexed.
The a cascading rainbow of others mounted on top of it: caged; captured; boxed in; and utterly suppressed in every way shape and form. My captors it seemed had literally taken me hostage; and the only way out was this utterly elusive "good behaviour and utter silence".
A wave of fire ran over my molecular structure as each atom started it's own scream at this situation; these were the signs of a panic attack; or potentially a nervous break down.
Man; if only I had smoked a joint today; this would have been a lot more tolerable.
My fellow prisoners were all loaded out of their minds on booze and who knows what else and having a rather good round of bored social conversation. While Officer Gestapo Pig continued to remind me that I was not allowed to speak out loud with the other prisoners and to jingle his keys as he; for no apparent reason, along now with several other Officers who repeatedly committed the same action, with keys in hand at now regular intervals.
The cage seemed rather small at this point; and the absurd amount of bars; which at this point were noticeably reflecting subtle shadows and light on all the walls of more bars; on top of the glare of the light which at this point was causing an after glow of even still more bars from looking at the bars.
That's when two older prisoners started having a rather loud conversation about the existence of God; and why one man with a strong, broad voice that silenced everyone in the jail with a sentence uttered and gushing wisdom spoke of how he believed with everything he was made of in the Creator of All; while the other who sounded rather disheveled and spoke of his utter disdane of the thought of a god.
Many of the other prisoners fell silent; chiming in from time to time; along with myself on small fragments of our own personal opinions.
Almost as if under neith these two wise men the sides had been drawn and only the belief oriented prisoners bantered back and forth.
Those who did not believe seemingly punctuating everything with death.
The strong voiced man stated all God has given us is ourselves; and that is all we should need on this planet; along with the acceptance that human is not the highest level of being.
Along with this he stated that all we can count on is love.
It felt like someone had shot every prisoner; they al all fell silent and listened to what this man had to say.
At this point I was wondering if I was even awake; asleep; or possibly in some very strange reality that was not of my own.
The disembodied voices arguing back and forth; bouncing up and down the hallways all became a little too much and I hit the emergency kill switch.
Bursting in manic laughter I staved off another wave of intense panic and capture; this place had officially become weirder then anything I have ever been in before.
Officer Gestapo Pig came down the hallway.
"I would let you go but you keep acting like an orangutang! Smarten up!"
Man; I hated that guy.
The weird discussion continued into the night; time had been strung up and given to the Police to do as they will with.
More prisoners were brought in; soon the whole place was packed.
The older men had gone to sleep.
Now all that remained was the bored conversations of prisoners.
Due to the fact most everyone in there was tanked the first element of their boredom of course consisted of destructive natures. As they could not physically do this; they did so though their words. Even though it was a maddening circle of "Faggot; pussy; ect ect ect" the comedy tact displayed by various prisoners was genius.
The whole night the strongest feeling was the prisoners were the true humans; and our captors the Police; some kind of cold beings who delighted in tormenting whoever they could.
This was more pleasant; like a sitcom; playing around these strange concrete walls.
I felt calm; complacent.
This wasn't so bad.
Thirst eventually became an issue again.
The toilet looked mighty good.
A new officer had started making the rounds.
Officer Robocop couldn't hear a word I said.
However at one point I mentioned the continuous creeping panic and he mentioned that a nervous break down had led him to becoming a Police officer.
Great.
So I determined that I would never become a cop in that moment; and sluffed the panic off.
Many, many, many hours had passed at this point.
An officer said it was 4:30 a.m.
Then another a while later said it was 4 a.m.
Those bastards.
No one else knew or cared; most were too drunk to noticed and a majority had worked themselves into the ground and passed out on their cold metal bunks.
The police kept telling me to go to sleep.
I tried; but even when at home I can stay awake for a very long time; especially when I have been locked in a small box all day with no movement available to me.
So I tried to wear myself out doing push-ups and other kind of monkey business I could get into with the cell. Since my sneakers had no laces and were ripped to pieces they offered little in the way of actually shoe services my activities were limited.
Eventually the Police started hinting constantly that the time of our release was near. They said it was 6 am; then 5:30; then various other times that just blurred away as mental fatigue set in.
Aliens started appearing in the hallways and on the walls; various strange things flittered around and each strange visage that passed I asked if they could get the stupid door open for me.
Each one said I had to keep learning in this environment.
So onwards I went.
Wonder what and where those strange things on the walls kept coming from; and where they went when I looked directly at them. Not aliens so much; more like little butterflies but with a strange digital clock look about them.
This place was really starting to get to me.
What the coppers did to me.
Read more at: Part I & Part III
