For what it’s worth, the suspension of disbelief, temporary or permanent, is best engendered in the company of other fools. The more the merrier; for the devil that is, the foolor, not the foolee.

Footnote. It’s easier to brainwash the masses when they are being entertained in the company of their brethren.

A homophone is a word that is pronounced the same (to varying extent) as another word but differs in meaning. A homophone may also differ in spelling. The two words may be spelled the same, such as rose (flower) and rose (past tense of “rise”), or differently, such as carat, caret, and carrot, or to, two, and too. The term “homophone” may also apply to units longer or shorter than words, such as phrases, letters, or groups of letters which are pronounced the same as another phrase, letter, or group of letters. Any unit with this property is said to be “homophonous”.

See you next Tuesday. CUNT. The C and U are homophonic. Who knew eh?

The top 1% have, what, 90% of the world’s wealth?

This means that as an Australian living in this privileged enclave, there’s a good chance that you’ll be wealthy. One in a hundred, in fact.

That’s pretty good odds compared to most gambles.

But if doesn’t feel like that, does it?

The odds of climbing from the 99% into the 1% bracket are in fact one in a zillion. This is because the wealthy do what they can to barracade the ramparts of their caste, on the basis that your loss is my gain.

affidavit
/ˌafɪˈdeɪvɪt/
noun
“a written statement confirmed by oath or affirmation, for use as evidence in court.”

After reading through the aforementioned delusional claims, my oath, one thought comes through clearly.

My current wife has great values. She would never use personal need or upset as an excuse to justify cunty behaviour. She has a conscience and she is responsible for it.

The contrast between the women couldn’t be starker. It’s possibly worth the cost just to be reminded of this.

Boiled down to the core, one has good values only in a reciprocity sense and the other has them in an absolute sense. The former has a great facade but only whilst she wants something from you. Once you’re no good to her, dog meat.

The greater fool was I. But I fixed it in the end, your honour.

What would you do for money? Slander and lie. If not, its probably because you have the luxury not to. How about twisting the truth up in your head so much so that you’re effectively fucked forever? That’s akin to doing a deal with the devil; selling your soul for the benefit of your earthly body.

My ex wife and her lawyer want everything on the basis that I did cunty things. Au contraire; she mind fucked me for two decades. For a more solid description of what happened others can tell that story. I’m not going to dwell on the past, nor counter. That’s not my style.

Here’s an interesting thought.





As the certainty of a financial return from an investment goes up, the rate of return goes down. This is a result of the usual forces of supply and demand.





However when the average rate of return dips below zero, and you tip into the gambling world, the “possible” rate of return goes up to nearly bloody infinity. The actual average rate of return to all punters is negative of course, but is feasible that one or more punters may make a motza.





Which leads me to three thoughts:

1. The better the odds, the greater the gap between the feasible and probable return to the investor. This gap must be able to be described mathematically.
2. No one seems to have systematically applied the idea of a motza on investments that usually have a positive return. Imagine, you invest in a Superfund and there is a feasible chance that you could be a multi billionaire. The reason this doesn’t exist is because the fund managers don’t need the motza to attract investors and they wouldn’t share their management fee under any scenario.
3. But what about a mixed investment fund that mixes both positive and negative yield investment classes, and includes a motza to attract the punters?

What got me here in the first place is investment into IP. The punters that apply for patents are in fact gamblers, but they just don’t know it. In essence though, they are waiting for a motza with little or no opportunity for a guaranteed yield from their investment. But they are working without a pool of other punters; the more likely motza is from a large pool of patents, where one among many is used to extract a lot of money or some corporation and some of this is used to fund the general pool of patents, and one lucky investor gets a lottery style return (and not necessarily the original owner of the patent).

The moral to the story is this: anytime one sees motzas hanging around it’s a clue that there no real underlying positive steady state of return.

New word for the day…

Neurosexistentialism

Meaning? Who knows. I just like the sound of it.

We in Australia in this new millennium are practiced in the art of artisan logic.

“a wanker in a vaguely skilled trade, especially one that involves making things up using data gleaned from social media, especially something deemed trendy amongst the millennials.”

Total bullshit, in other words.

The problem is simple. There are nearly infinite future possibilities but in retrospect only one was/is right. The odds are horrendous.

But success is only measured relative to all the other poor fuckers trying to predict the future. So you’ve got a fairly good chance of getting more than your fair share of the proceeds.

Success requires luck and a good grasp of morphic filters; that is, applying past trends to the future and getting lucky on timing.

All that gumph on behavioral economics, all it does is help you avoid dumb ideas underpinned by popular bullshit.

It’s that simple.

A crash is coming. Economically speaking.

Sure it is. But when? Anyone can predict the future but they’re all wrong, or just lucky.

Of course a crash is coming. History is full of them and there’s no cogent plan in place to avoid them because that would cost time and money and concentration, which no one has time for. And the opposition are there making sure it doesn’t happen.

Truth is, greed is a great driving force that can’t be stopped. Except by itself.

I’m starting to sound like a classical economist.

But I can’t ignore the fact that there is a force of social cohesiveness that counters greed. But I would note that it only flourishes in an environment where resources are considered infinite. Which they aren’t.

So….

We need sun for our bodies to work properly.

Avoiding the sun is more risky than smoking, according to the data.

And that’s before you factor in the toxicity of the chemicals in sunblock.

Go figure, as usual. La de da.

Surely, madness is subjective. My objectivity is your madness, for example. To wit, this blog.

I’ve heard that one purpose of declaring the idiot as mad is to protect them, or others, from their unbridled subjectivity.

Taking not this nugget as fool’s, the bar for madness itself must limbo up and down relative to the number of spectators in harm’s way.

At one end, the idiot only risks their own flesh; set the bar high I say. At the other extreme we have Trump, potentially discriminating against 7 billion odd; in such cases, act without evidence and with extreme prejudice.

What a heading, perfect for this 21st century! The diverse crimes of mankind are about to catch up with all of us, whether or not we have been the beneficiaries of these vices. It ain’t fair, it just is.

It’s time to murder a rainy day in the pub, if only one would come along.

On the subject of poo implants:’The researchers conclude there is no “one stool fits all” approach’No shit, Sherlock…

In the UK the Queen is immune to prosecution.

The Queen is also exempt from giving evidence in a witness box.

How does that make sense, even as a bad example?

Nic says day dreams are how we learn from life’s lessons. She could be right.

Two night ago, Nic described how she met this ball of negative energy dude at a party once, and that he was the only person ever that had fully managed to deflate her joy bunny personality.

Then last night in my dreams I was unfortunately reliving my past lives, with Joanne featuring heavily. It was bloody painful having to go back through this particular ball of negative energy.

Circular, painful, tedious and hostile. I woke up in a sweat.

But immediately I understood the message. My big mistake then was putting up with this shit. I should have walked, very early on. By hanging around I was being a complete victim.

It started with Margery, then Heidi, then Joanne and finally Kate.

The purpose of the dream was to tell Lola. My brain is telling me that she might get the same curse. Fear mixed with sympathy that ends up crucifying the possessor by proxy.

The fucked up individuals, they find you, then they suck the blood out of you. If you can escape with your life, you’re lucky.

“After becoming aware that the vision was being shared on social media, Kurtley contacted me last night to apologise for the negative attention the video had attracted and expressed regret at putting himself in a compromising position at that time.”

Seriously, that’s it?

Rugby Australia don’t have a plot to lose.

Everyone wants to tell you about something they love, something they hope you might like, and it’s impossible to fault that impulse. Yes it is! Shut up with your advocacy. Be alone in your desires and tastes. If you truly love it, it’s best savoured alone. That’s the ultimate test; whether you’re seeking approval or just enjoying the thing.

Getup has decided to target Peter Dutton in the upcoming elections because he’s a cunt.

That’s hard to argue with.

However I think this precedent will enable the further polarisation of politics. It’ll drive people like Dutton to the extremes of their positions, simply as a survival tactic.

Getup’s intention is to get rid of Dutton. In the meantime they’ll ensure we see the worst he can do. And who knows they may fail and we will be stuck with the cunt in total cunt mode.

It’s easy for me to be Blase about dying. Unlike the poor folk in mediaeval times I’m not faced with the daily threat of premature extinction Under such circumstances, who knows, I might even clutch at the religious straw like all the other fearful fuckers.

But as it is, I don’t care much. It’s a certainty that I keep pushing away into the distant future, over the hill and out of sight and mind. Effectively, at any moment, I’m timeless and I’ll never die.

As a first order approximation it’s worked so far. And as I’ve noted elsewhere I’m shit at forecasting the future. There’s a 100% certainty that I’ll die. There’s a 1 in a zillion chance that I’d get the day, month or even year right.

Mathematically it’s not worth worrying about. 100 X 0 is still zero.

Ta la de da.

Let’s say it’s easy to be cynical for some. That’s a critique that I have received more than once in my life.

However I’ve never heard someone say to me that’s it’s hard to be optimistic. Same, same.

Oddly I am quite optimistic; it’s the hallmark of an innovator, noting that the future can always be better than the past.

I would just like to say that this highlights the dissonance of the conservative, hating what they aren’t and also what threatens their weedy existence.

Nuff said.

Don’t try and improve on something that works just fine. This despite 300 years of indoctrination that all things can and should be improved upon. They can, but the chances that your current effort will be an improvement is running up against the law of diminishing returns. This is simply a result of those 300 years of avid tinkering by billions of zealots.

What you will find is that you will get change but not an improvement; change is like a drug – you get a hit that lasts a short while until you need another hit.

Wean yourself off change and improvement, I say. To do so, you need to be the change that you want to see, or you must fake it until you make it. It’s like a diet – you simply abstain until it becomes second nature.

PS I’m an idiot. How could I be sold the idea that a 100 year old bike seat design is the best? Never trust old codgers and their dodgy opinions, based on nostalgia and creeping irrelevance. Irony alert!

After a lot of reading here’s what I know about weight loss and control.

One, avoid refined carbohydrates because they are super rich in calories.

Two, avoid refined carbohydrates because they escalate the insulin response, which triggers fat storage. Especially fructose.

Three, where possible choose protein over fat over carbs (in that order).

Four, fast where possible. Skip lunch, Skip breakfast. Skip something. Fasting improves the insulin response. For the pancreas imagine that a change is as good as a holiday.

Five, exercise regularly and change it up too. This improves the insulin response and also chews up a few calories and builds muscles, which uses more calories than fat does.

That’s it. No mysteries. Just discipline and getting used to the regime.

I think we humans are born with key values hardwired in.

Central to our value system is how we treat and perceive other humans.

At one end, the classic conservative just wants slaves.

At the other end, social creatures really care about the feelings of others.

In kids you can tell where they’re at on the spectrum by their grasp of reciprocation. It’s inherent; they either want something for nothing, or they understand they have to give to get.

Trust, fear, love, optimism; they’re all wrapped up in this preset position. There probably needs to be a supra definition of all these attributes from which they all spring.

Currently I’m leaning towards thinking that this is all wrapped up in one’s perception of time, the here and now versus the there and then. Living too much in the here and now stunts the young mind in it’s development of the understanding on consequences in the future.

And yet your doesn’t feel quite right. I’ll keep pondering.

Query whether it’s at all possible to reset a kid’s set point? I doubt it unless it’s at great cost.

There’s nothing oppressed about the noble, and there’s nothing noble about the oppressed.

Back in the old days all sorts of things were made illegal; prostitution, SP bookies, gambling in general, drugs of all sorts, even grog after 6pm, etc.

Of course making something illegal doesn’t suppress demand or supply, it just stops the collection of tax.

The shareholders that benefit are different too; cops, politicians, judges and crooks instead of super funds and their limited partners, and the managers of the oligarchical corporations that tend to dominate each sector.

I can’t say which is the better situation in fact. The former is hypocritical and dangerous, but generally more fun too. The latter is less dangerous all round but somewhat neutered and far more hypocritical.

No Ben, a protein diet is a proxy for eating less processed (read “industrialised cheap-arsed”) food. It’s a useful shortcut that pretty much works.

Spengler was right; we’re in our historical decline and right on target.

No amount of weird left-field exhortation by druids is going to change that mate.

Nobody cares enough. On a sinking ship it’s all hands for themselves.

Behind the daily facade of demented desire, people know that it’s all bullshit. They’re just way too chickenshit to admit that to themselves.

It’s a religion, meaning that they all believe the bullshit solely because everyone else does.

In real life and in history there is no moment when the emporer has no clothes.

The emporer is always clothed. Before, during and after progress.

I’m pretty sure this doesn’t actually mean what it says.

The past is the best predictor of the future. Unless it’s not, of course. In which case it still is.

There’s an exception to that last rule; the chick that got away. Can I even say that?

It’s much easier to forget things that you didn’t do.

And yet another feature of religions that is worth noting…

All of them claim to know the future, as if it’s all mapped out.

This stands true for both the old school God religions and for the modern civil religions.

I say, if you’re that good at predicting the future then go buy some stocks.

It must be that people need to believe that the future already exists, or that time does not. Analogous to a fear of death, me thinks.