Have you ever found yourself out in public somewhere, watching some dumb-ass commit some unspeakably heinous dumb-ass thing and asked yourself how such a person could possibly have survived Nursery School? I mean… after all… It’s not like Darwin invented the concept of natural selection – he’s just the guy who put it into words and pictures on paper in varying shades of charcoal for all the dumb-asses out there that are incapable of mustering an abstract thought on their own.

Have you ever been at a toy store on Christmas Eve and watched two – theoretically – normal adult women bust-out into a bitch fight over the last this-or-that toy on the shelf?

Have you ever been at a little league baseball game and watched a fight break out at home plate… between the parents of the opposing players as their progeny watched in shock and embarrassed dismay?

And then there are the rude so-called service workers at restaurants, gas stations, grocery stores, and banks & hotels… and – lest we forget of course – there’s also the cheery transportation employees at the train, plane, and automobile stations and depots around the world to consider as well.

Such has become the state of the Human condition… and don’t even get me started on the DMV – there’s only so much I can stand to think about while I’m putting together this introduction.

The root of all evil

Anyone that has ever told you that money was the root of all evil was a fucking liar concerned only with making you feel better about yourself and the dumb-asses around you… and to distract you from seeing the real truth:

People are the root of all evil…

Not money, not religion, not war, and certainly not politics… Just the humanoids you have to share space and oxygen with on this spinning little blue ball day-in-and-day-out ad nauseam.

The right way to “do unto others”

I grew up in the suburbs of a big city but was fortunate enough to have had family out in the country with whom I spent a good deal of my formative years on weekends, holidays, and summer vacations. These remain the fondest of my childhood memories and comprised much of who and what I am today.

Those folks knew how to be normal. They were incredibly happy to see you arrive and equally – if not more so – incredibly anxious to see you go back home when your visit was through. They treated you like their home was your home, made you feel like spending time with you was the only thing in life that mattered to them, and would unflinchingly offer you the shirt off their back if that’s what you needed in order to live through another day.

When the time came to part ways it was expected of you that their hospitality and good stewardship would be spread across the lives of everyone you encountered and that you would be as kind and generous and hospitable to others in your owned life as they had been to you in yours.

They expected nothing less.

Sadly those days, and those sorts of people, have long- ago shrunk so small in the rearview mirror of humanity as to be unrecognizable and almost completely forgotten.

There’s no place like “alone”

Lord Byron is credited with this quote :

I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.

Genius in its simplicity, these words get right to the heart of the matters and affairs of mankind. As true as Darwin showed it to be about humans being social animals, it has been proven – time and time again – that we are only truly ourselves when we are alone… and, given the enormity of the growth in the numbers of humanoids since Darwin’s time that have actually devolved rather than evolved… it’s safe to say that – for far too many – continuing down the evolutionary path of social animal-hood might just spell the demise of the species.

With my medical issues more or less stabilized, and my life sentence of partial blindness and moderate cognitive defect in tow, I am now relegated to the task of “making the most of what I have left”. Join me, and consider the true (though sometimes conveniently embellished for emphasis and effect) chronicles found in these pages. Shared here are personal observations as I endeavor to carve out a simple, uncomplicated existence – shipwrecked as it were – on an island in the middle of a big city and it’s sea of humanity. On the rare occasions that I have to leave my cave to restock and resupply, this is the shit I have to witness & endure every day.

It isn’t pretty but it is what it is.

It makes me appreciate Lord Byron a little more each time I make it back home in one piece.