Migrant Ion Farmer

Ion Farmer VS UK Law Enforcement Board

2009-03-20T11:53:00.008-05:00

This one comes from my man in PGH, Lenny Vlassic. It references Ubama whoever the hell that is. Nice.

-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Personal message:
Date: Wed, 18 Mar 2009 10:46:51 +0100
From: British law Enforcement britishlawenforcement2@liveinternet.ru

*/Personal message:/*

*/To The Attention Of Beneficiary,/*

*/The Board of federal law enforcement board UNITED KINGDOM in collaboration with the American president (Barrack Ubama) are hereby to notify you of your payment inheritance funds of (One hundred and twenty thousand pounds) 120,000 pounds after the meeting held on 13th of March 2009 in washington DC. His Excellence (Barrack Ubama) make it clear in the meeting that he will do every possible best to iradicate number of scammers in the world and for more details you can view the Website of madoff the great american scammer that was court.
/*
*//s/ap/20090312/ap_on_bi_ge/madoff_scandal /*

*/However you are advice to contact British foreign remittance office UK for the transfer of your fund and also indicate this code when contacting them (BN7412QS) /*

*/Contact/*

*/Attn Mr Fred Anderson
Foreign remittance Department
London Branch
Email: remforeign@aol.com

*/Make sure you indicate the code giving to you and send your full information to them for a faster response./*

*/Beneficiarey name---------------------
Your Address:---------------------------
Home telephone:---------------------
Office telephone:---------------------
Your picture:------------------------------
Identification card--------------
For further procedure Contact our payment officer with the information above./*

*/Note you should stop any conversation you have with any other person or company at the moment because number of fraud are too much and we are doing our best to stop it and don't share this with any other person except you as the beneficiary./*

*/Regards
Law enforcement Board/*

from US Law Enforcement Board (us.law.enforcement.board@gmail.com)
to remforeign@aol.com,
britishlawenforcement2@liveinternet.ru
date Fri, Mar 20, 2009 at 12:51 PM
subject Excise Case Number: 5318008/26-B

Excise Case Number: 5318008/26-B
Dear UK Law Enforcement Board:

This is the Law Enforcement Board of the UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT (E Pluribus Unum). As you are well aware via our monthly NATO publication, due to the excessive bailout out crisis we have been authorised to apply a confidential one time only bail-out tax of $1500.00 to all foreign government agencies operating within our borders, due immediately.

This one time excise can be processed immediately and can be carried forward via standard financial instruments and delivered via all standard services to:

Foreign Excise Processing Center
358 Dory Road
Gloucester, MA 01920

This is a reminder that this debt is required to be rendered imediately and without question. A debate with the International Fair Trade and Services board has resulted that this tax be aplied to e-commerce as well and in this specific case it has been decided upon that this tax should be applied on an e-mail by e-mail basis in this case.

remforeign@aol.com: $1500.00 USD
britishlawenforcement2@li veinternet.ru: $1500.00 USD
UK Excise tax: $1500.00 USD
British and .ru domain cold-war temporal tax: $1500.00 USD

Grand Total $6000.00 USD
10% Processing Fee $6600.00 USD
6.5% VAT $7029.00 USD

Amount Due: $7029.00 USD

Regards,

Ophelia Cox
Clerk 26-B
US Law Enforcement Board

5 - Submarine Hate Poetry: My Statement

2009-03-13T10:53:00.001-05:00

My Statement

I could not tell you where or when or how the hell what I have been bound to by contract was created. In a life of despair and self-hatred, it isn’t uncommon to miss the details. The process of assembling this edifice of self flagellation is shrouded in a rich varnish of mystery, but I have my own speculations on its origins. The ship was forged under the direction of unholy passions and dark spirits. It is not obvious, this feeling, this preternatural knowledge. Not like the visible change of men’s personalities when they arrive here. That is one of the hints. The other hints come one by one. They must be carefully lured, like the squirrels old men feed in the park. No one knows why, but the truth and men distrust one another -- probably because they are so unfamiliar. To find the hints, one must be alone. Truly alone and beyond the strict influence of others. One must be in a dim place. That is not hard, there are many dim places around this ship. The sailing roster is full of dim places. When you find the location and the right time, it comes. It drips up from the cold, gritty deck plates, ropy sticky wisps of putrid incense. It is the souls of a thousand men they have senselessly sacrificed on this vessel. Sacrificed simply because a higher position allowed it. Because they could. Not even the dignity to name a god for whom the sacrifice took place. If you patiently wait in your time of understanding, those thousand men will whisper the name. It starts slow and deliberate, like a sleeping lover's breath. In the background, behind the action, you can hear the ship’s heart beat. Fans and pumps, whirring and turning, like an atheist’s prayer wheel. Moving and going no where. Electric symbols of Hell. Of life. In time, if you can withstand the agony and empathy you endure in your heart, the men’s voices will swirl into the Monsoon, into the Sierra, into the Nor’easter, into the wind-walking demon, Ithiqua itself. The name of this god comes from their mouths, an invader riding proudly, his horse over the corpses. “Career,” they howl. It haunts you in your private apocalypse. As you bond to the cold metal framing, abhorred and transfixed, revelations occur. The reactor is fuels by souls. This is not fantasy or speculation. This is fact. A “pipeline” has been established to ensure the nuclear reactor is always provided with fresh souls. When the new ones come you can physically differentiate the unbalance between those who come, and those who are here. The unblemished have too much soul. They don’t know it, but their soul panics as if a bird in a cat stalked cage. Light and feathered, it beats about the bars on the inside until it is dead and featherless. On the outside, the prey vainly attempts to motivate others around himself. The words pour like piss on a flat rock, with just as much meaning. Soon, with dark eyes and knotted hair, this parasitic host makes his duly appointed rounds mumbling, ”I don’t give a fuck.” When men get on the outside, out of the reactor's sphere of influence, they come back to life. They live. The bird, beaten and featherless, grows back its plumage and starts to sing. That is how you know it is a fact. You can know it to be true by this: When a hatch is opened, and a spear of sunlight stabs the engineroom in the heart, dusty oil suspended in air drips off the shaft of light. The men stir with slavering animal hunger for the outside. For the air. For the light. A vain attempt to temporarily regain their feathers. What those above you tell you and what the heart perceives are very different. I have been told that the reactor is filled with uranium. Do you know what uranium is? It is a word for the culmination of all the old gods. Of Loki and Quetzacoatl. Of Satan and Santa Claus. Of Zeus, Hera and Cookie Monster. All trapped inside, feeding on your soul. Uranium. A nether-place. Ubiquitous and unmentionable. The spiritual blackmail and ritual that must have gone on, to get them in there. Packed tight, like genie slum-housing. Hyman G. Rickover: Slumlord. An overtone from Uranium that comes out in the way crew’s berthing is designed, the way we live. So much influence in that lead shrouded sarcophagus. Uranium: The place where old gods go. In their image, we were created. Sacrifice. Contrition. Penance. Base genuflection. Prostration. All feeble attempts at immortality. At pleasing the irrational. Quite some futile passion, creating hope beyond reason.

That is all I know about the current ship's casualty

4 - Submarine Hate Poetry: Mission

2009-03-13T10:14:00.001-05:00

Mission

Don't dismiss the Anger
That has come
As the uninvited guest,
Anger is here with purpose and meaning
To transform and purify
Let this heat fuse
Interstitchal changes in your soul
Tempering your determination.
Quench the shaping fire
With the resolution of change
Harder. Stronger. Sharper.
Truer than before.
And when your ship is sailing
Steaming ahead on the twin engines of Anger and Purpose
Let all else break upon the brow of your will
Forging you further
On this chart
Of destiny.

3 - Submarine Hate Poetry: Vane

2009-03-13T10:09:00.003-05:00

Vane

When I sit and reason
I find my love belongs to her
And will not be separated.
It is as the immutable rhythm
That slyly sifts through the evening grasses,
And drives coal black cricket chirp.
The accusatory moon in the night:
A doorknob,
So the careless won’t wander
In starry space too long.
A decrepit cast iron weathercock.
Silhouette on gray farmhouse
Squeakily pointing the direction
From which the rust comes.

2 - Submarine Hate Poetry: Scorpio Rising

2009-03-13T09:50:00.003-05:00

On the island of Crete there is a bar by the name of Scorpio. This is located in an ancient harbor and of all the sailor bars in this mythical town, this one found a particularly solid place at the bottom of the list. This place had obscure European 70's classic rock blaring uncomfortably in a tinny manner, the musk of thousand of years of urine soaked into the stone floor, a rich patina of yellow tobacco smoke stickily lining the walls and horizontal surfaces, and a bevy of international young women to serve drinks as the owner held their work visa and passports whilst lowering their agreed upon wages. It was like a sailor's dream come to life!

Scorpio Rising

Dingy, yellow light
Confines us.
Preventing
the resolution of detail.
Money and
Emblems and
Identification and
Credit cards
Juxtaposed on the walls
like evidence of explosion.
An edifice to who we were.
Who we are.
In the dark recesses,
Tears cower
Held back by a dam of pride.
Some squeaky speaker
Parrots popular music
masking true emotion
Over and over.
Upstairs,
Next to the broken shitter,
I left my pride.

1 - Submarine Hate Poetry: An Introduction

2009-03-13T09:36:00.004-05:00

I have a confession: I count number the days that I spent on board a United States Los Angeles Class Submarine as the most baleful existence I could imagine (that is until the United States invented Camp X-Ray, Abu Grahib, and the non-combatant classification, which I can only guess from stories, is a category only slightly below non-human, seeing how these guys seem to miss out on basic animal rights. I support free-range prisoners, foreign and domestic. Apparently we just can't have too many prisoners in this country. I believe US Government should practice free range to achieve a humane certification, to reduce feed costs, to improve the happiness and liveliness of their ~~animals~~ prisoners, to produce a higher-quality institutional product, and improve breeding-yield so that a new generation of higher quality prisoners would always be available, reducing the dependence on foreign nations for non-combatant raids).

Don't get me wrong, this experience prepared me to deal with many miserable situations and gave me a technical skill set that I confidently use on a day to day basis, and there is little that can compare with that vital training. This training has opened opportunities for me and I am thankful for that. This experience also gave me the opportunity to make myself a volunteer, experience something that people try to imagine, get to practice a clandestine lifestyle, disappear off the face of the earth for months at a time, face bill collectors when I got back home, and stand up for the country that I loved.

But on a truly spiritual and emotional level this existence was barren for me. I often searched philosophically for purpose and meaning in what I was doing, beyond the standard rational of deterrence. I wanted something more. I needed something more and continually came up empty. I believe that the problem became the arbitrary politics of the boat itself, circling in an area beyond my influence.

I penned a hate haiku. It was December 1996 I had been trapped in a submarine for 6 months and was steaming home, my ex-wife had started her affair (that she didn't know that I had known about for months just by the tone in her voice) and I was completely frustrated with being on this submarine and how it was dictating my life. I wrote a standard 5-7-5 haiku, seething with hate:

December

Ball peen hammer hits.
Teeth head south like winter geese.
Better than Christmas.

I'm not even sure if it was directed at anyone as much as a catharsis by imagining a violent action, finding a moment of insight and tagging it with a shocker. I don't know if that description makes sense, but that's how I thought of it. Anyway that horrible poem made me feel better by venting it on paper and I decided that I would explore the concept of "Hate Poetry" as it applied to my day to day experiences at that time.

When I look back at these I realized how unhinged they seem and actually that was the style I was trying to emulate. I firmly believe that you have to be a little unhinged to serve effectively on a submarine, not dangerously, but you have to have the ability to let little things slide and address big things immediately and effectively. In writing for my submarine audience I wanted to see how loose I could get.

I've made a decision to post a few on this blog. They typically are an attempt to capture an emotion during specific events or activities, and some break down into stream of conscientiousness writing and I hope they are not too much to read. "Enjoy" is not the proper introduction for these smoldering gems, so here they are. They are what they are.

Ion Farmer VS iPowerweb: The Thrilla via Mozilla

2009-03-09T11:19:00.002-05:00

Jennifer Dwyer: Hi Ion Farmer. My name is Jennifer, how are you today?

Ion Farmer: HI, Jennifer, I'm good. My domain www.freedomalleystudios.com is down. I cannot load it from my browser, but I can log into the administration site via the administrtative homepage.

Jennifer Dwyer: Okay.

Jennifer Dwyer: I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you.

Jennifer Dwyer: While I reviewing your account, I have noticed that you have not set the Security Question of your account. In order to set the Security Question of your account, please follow the steps given below:

Ion Farmer: Okay

Jennifer Dwyer: 1. Log into the Control Panel http://www.someserverhost.com/controlpanel/index.bml with username and password.

Jennifer Dwyer: 2. Click on 'Set Security Question' link under ‘Account Information’ section.

Jennifer Dwyer: 3. Click on the radio button 'New Profile'.

Jennifer Dwyer: 4. Enter the First Name, Last Name, and set the Security Question and the Security Answer.

Jennifer Dwyer: 5. Click on the 'Save' button.

Ion Farmer: Okay

Jennifer Dwyer: Are you able to set the Security Question?

Ion Farmer: Yes

Jennifer Dwyer: To protect your account from unauthorized changes, can you please verify for me the answer to the Security Question:

Jennifer Dwyer: What is the name of your pet?

Ion Farmer: Herbert.

Jennifer Dwyer: Thank you for the authentication.

Ion Farmer: No, thank you! I feel more secure already! I haven't felt this secure with the whole internet thing in years! I mean, at first, I was wary that Internet interactions would be subject to unethical activity due to the vail of anonymity, but that ends today! I don't think anyone would be able to untangle this Gordian knot of high-tech security!! Can we go over this, just one more time, how this, exactly, is protecting my account from unauthorized changes? I mean really, you have no idea who I am. I guess I could send you a image of a drivers license -er, I mean, my drivers license.

Ion Farmer: Hello?

Ion Farmer: What's the name of your pet?

Chat Information: Chat session has been terminated by the site operator.

Ion Farmer VS. Ocean State Electronics

2009-03-06T11:50:00.008-05:00

from ionfarmer
to ose@oselectronics.com
date Thu, Mar 5, 2009 at 12:08 PM
subject 2/19/2008 Order Status: 1235056853

Dear OSE Customer Service:

I am writing in regards to an order that was places 2/19/2008. The order number is 1235056853

I still have not received this shipment and understand that you are running a few days behind at the time the order was placed, but I surely thought that my order would have arrived by now. I have used Ocean State Electronics in the past as a source of needed parts for my projects, but I now question weather this relationship will continue. I made a similar order for parts using Parts-Express.com and have had them installed and waiting for their companion parts for nearly 2 weeks.

I tried to call for an order status and was, on many occasions, unable to get through with the number provided on your website. I am assuming I am not the only customer requesting a status update.

Could you please give me an estimate of when I could expect my parts to arrive or if they have even shipped yet?

Thank you in advance for you time,

Ionfarmer

to ionfarmer
from Ocean State Electronics
date Fri, Mar 6, 2009 at 10:56 AM
subject RE: 2/19/2008 Order Status: 1235056853

Sir, although you received a confirmation, we never received an order here for you at OSE. Sometimes, orders slip through the cracks with these electronic systems. If you re-submit your order, we will make sure all items are in stock and ship without delay. We apologize for the inconvenience.

from Ionfarmer
to Ocean State Electronics
date Fri, Mar 6, 2009 at 11:40 AM
subject Re: 2/19/2008 Order Status: 1235056853

Dear OSE Customer Service:

Thank you for your timely and witty response! I am still holding my belly from the whole "sometimes, orders slip through the cracks with these electronic systems" thing.

Ahh, good stuff!

Seriously, I am starting to think that my imagined image of the state of this company didn't do it justice! So, not only have I been waiting on the parts I ordered for this project for over 2 weeks, I am to understand that your on line ordering and confirmation system doesn't even function?

This has been an terrible experience and in all honesty I tried to call to cancel my order with your company yesterday, but was unable to get through because of your phone center's constant busy signal, which was infuriating and frustrating, as well. Although, I have to admit, tactically it is a good system, I mean customers can't cancel poorly handled orders if there is no way to make contact. I like this whole philosophy of "If we don't answer the phone maybe the customers will stop calling." Having some customer service experience myself, I know how aggravating it can be to diagnose and correct customer problems. I honestly hadn't thought of trying this solution to that particular problem.

I am sorry that the best this company can do is have me resubmit my order.

One question: If I were to decide to reorder with this company do to some unacknowledged brain trauma I may have suffered between my original order and now, how exactly would I do that? I am curious because I tried to do that in the normal manner and received a confirmation, and a confirmation number, but, I mean, what is the process after I receive the confirmation? Is there an e-mail or phone number I could call to verify my confirmation? I don't mean to be obtuse, but I'm not sure we are talking about the same thing when we say confirmation. I thought that when one spoke of confirmation they spoke of it in terms of additional proof that something that was believed is true or perhaps information that confirms or verifies. So really, as that as the basis of my belief about confirmation, I salute you sir! Your company has invented an electronic system that coldly and deliberately lies to your customers. Is there nothing that a company won't automate? Is no human job secure? I didn't really realized how convoluted this process could become. Who exactly verifies the confirmation?

So, if the net sum of two weeks of anticipation that today would be the day that I finish what may very well be the greatest contribution ever made to mankind, is that I have to reorder my parts, why wouldn't I choose a company that could supply me the part right the first time and in a timely manner?

Onward and Upward,

Ionfarmer

=================
UPDATE
=================

to ionfarmer
from Ocean State Electronics
date Mon, Mar 9, 2009 at 11:43 AM
subject RE: 2/19/2008 Order Status: 1235056853

Sir,

If we had received your order here at OSE, it would have shipped out the day you submitted it because it was for a measley $26.00, and all the items are in stock. Was your credit card charged? No, and we do not even have your information on our system because as we stated in our previous email, your order was never received. Clearly we did not receive the order, because you were never charged. We are happy to no longer do business with you.

At this point, ose@oseelectronics has blocked my e-mail account and unfortunately my e-mail bounced back. So I had to resend it message with a hastily slapped together email account with a "2" added at the end of the username.

from ionfarmer2
to ose@oselectronics.com
date Mon, Mar 9, 2009 at 12:08 PM
subject 2/19/2008 Order Status: 1235056853

Dear Customer Service:

Apparently there is something wrong with my e-mail provider, so I am resending this message with an awkward and unintentional delay via my secondary account. Please forgive my tardiness, I have copied my original message below:

Excellent and insulting -- a double score for you my pointy-headed little friend!!

I can see that my imagined state of this company does not do justice to its dire and desperate reality. I am sorry that my purchase order was for a "measley" [sic] $26.00 and am sure that this transaction would have gone much more smoothly if only the order have been on the order of hundreds or thousands of dollars. But even those type of totals would probably still be lost in the sprawling corporate landscape that is Ocean State Electronics. It is important to me to know that customer service comes first at Ocean State Electronics.

You know, there are codes of conduct in this world. One of them is that if you want to end a relationship with someone you supposedly care about, like your customer, you deal with them honestly and personally. You don't write them an insulting letter mocking their paltry order amount! But of course, that's what you did with me, and I'm not real happy about it.

What would have been so hard about writing to me as a human being and just letting me know what you were thinking? Or that there was something that OSE could do to make the situation better? Would it have made you uncomfortable? Well, think of how what you did made me feel! I'm glad of one thing, though: I found out now what kind of person you really are, before I made a really terrible mistake and forgave this oversight and make things right or something!

I hope that no one ever treats you with as much callousness and cruelty as you did me.

To set the record straight, it is not you with whom I am no longer doing business, it it's your new-fangled "electronic system" that apparently and randomly re-routes online orders.

I'm am sorry that we are ending this relationship this way. I thought that we could be friends.

:(

As a human being, and by the tone of your letter, I am worried about your delicate condition. It is apparent that working at Ocean State Electronics has not been good for you on a personal level and I would like to suggest taking up Yoga or Tai Chi for some stress management help. I hope that you can get through this break up all right and won't "bring the job home". I on the other-hand am doing exceptionally well. I just ran into one of your cute electronic parts supply friends online and I think I have a shot with her. I haven't said this since high school, but I think I'm going to get lucky!

Excellence in All Things,

Ionfarmer

ECOS Group, Inc.: My New Prospective Employer!

2009-02-23T10:39:00.008-05:00

I've been keeping it low key, but I'm conducting a job search. Here's a sample letter I received and my response to it. I love spam!!

Dear Ionfarmer,

My name is Jenny Brown, I’m a Chief Manager of the HR Department (ECOS Group Inc.). This letter confirms that your resume was carefully processed and you meet our requirements for Financial Manager vacancy.

Our company is based in the USA and well-known all over the world. We offer financial services like escrow for buyers and sellers (online auctions around the globe, offered both on closed commercial auctions (stock sales, business sales etc.) and on ebay.com, amazon.com, yahoo.com…).

Financial Agent is a part-time position with a flexible schedule. You have to work only 2-3 hours a day (Monday- Friday) staying at home! Communicate with clients via Internet and by the phone!

The Company covers all the fees related to this employment. Successful applicants are offered a trial period (1 month). During this time you will be trained, receive online support while working and being paid.

We’ll pay $2,300 per month + 8% commission from each successfully completed transaction. Total income is about $4,500 per month.

Are you interested? Please, contact us by e-mail: Jenny.ecos.job@gmail.com and feel free to ask all your questions !

* fill in the form below and attach to your message

++++++++++++++++++++++++FORM+++++++++++++++++++++++++
First name:_____________________________
Last name:_________________________
Country of residence:_______________________
Contact phone:_______________
Preferred call time:______________
++++++++++++++++++++++++FORM+++++++++++++++++++++++++

We found your resume at www.careerbuilder.com. This letter confirms that your resume has been duly processed and your skills completely meet our requirements for Financial Manager vacancy.

Yours truly,
Jenny Brown

Hi Jenny Brown!

Allah be praised, in an aromatically unique and anti-climatic fashion!!

I was excited to see that there was an opportunity at my doorstep to find new employment and obtain some security for myself and my family! I am working part time in my neighborhood cobbling shoes at night. It isn't a sophisticated operation like the on you work for, people in the neighborhood leave their shoes out on their doorstep at night and I come by in the wee hours and pick them up and cobble them. Then, if the people have left me a potato pie on their doorstep, I return their cobbled shoes. Like I said, not sophisticated like your world of high finance, but it keeps me and my family fed (although, I have to admit the wife hasn't been doing so well lately because of her potato allergies.) You could imagine my utter astonishment when I found that my qualifications were a match for the position of financial manager you have at your well-known company!!

Like I said, I'm anxious to start, and was wondering if I could put your company on my own one month trial period? Here's how it is going to work: I stay at home and talk to my friends and family on the internet and by phone and then you send me $4500.00, at the end of one month If I determine upon review that this work situation is acceptable, I give up cobbling shoes forever and work full time (10 hours per week!) at your company. for the amount stated above. I know that this sound unreasonable, but my wife doubts this veracity of what she calls your "bull shit company" (no offense). I tried to tell her that you made no mention of any commodities that were associated with bull shit or any part of the excrement industry, that you were in the financial sector, but she not listen. Hold on, I have to talk to my wife, she wants to know why I am not cobbling the shoes.

I talked to her about "us" and she doesn't even wanting me to work the new trial period we set up. She has several points she wanted me to raise but I'm afraid to, and then she said she would lock me in the closet. It's not her fault, Jenny, but I think the potato allergy makes her crazy!! She is standing behind me, watching me type. She looks mad. I will let her type now.

Hi Jenny, this is Ionfarmer's wife.

I think this letter is a study in truly a poor attempt at a confidence scam. Let's go through this letter systematically and find some major faults:

First, there is the e-mail address. A G-Mail account? Really?? You know, you could register a domain name that just might sound like a corporation that you are trying to represent and buy some server space. But, that would probably lead back to you in some fashion and anonymity is the key in this job offer, if nothing else. You probably lack the technical sophistication to set up an basic anonymous server, and that by itself doesn't make you a bad person, Jenny, but the fraudulent job offer kind of does doesn't it? I'm not calling you an asshole, but not having a web presence to support your claims is kind of an Achilles heel for this type of enterprise, now isn't it? (By the way, I am thinking that you are an asshole.)

Second, your letter states that Ionfarmer is qualified for a financial manager position but in the third paragraph you describe the job requirements for a financial agent. What the hell, we are only 1 paragraph into this e-mail interview and you've already decided that he's not good enough to be a financial manager? Screw you, Jenny. Screw you.

Third, you over-sell the lucrative potential of the position $4500 a month for 10 hours of work. From home? Maybe, you are right, maybe he's not good enough to earn this kind of money for 10 hours of work a month. And what about me Jenny, his wife? Have you though about how much strain having him home that much would put on our relationship? Why can you guys do what every other corporation does and keep the guys at the office for 40 hrs a week minimum and only get 10 hours worth of work from them? You should counter offer his trial offer by making him come into some office somewhere for 40-hours a week. Do it for my sake, because the potato pies are killing me.

Fourth, this company does not seem to be a "well-known" company based in the USA, as I am an avid female stock investor and am part of the Female Stock Investor Rodeo League. It's a wonderful organization, meeting once per month. At our gatherings we like to drink white zinfandel and bust bronco's and hog-tie things and discuss stock options, and commodities futures, but during this time I have not heard of this company nor it's services which seems unlikely as they have to economic reach to pay someone $4500 per month for 10 hours of work.

Fifth, the most humble of web searches links ECOS with a non-existent job opportunity at best and outright check cashing and money laundering scheme at worst.

Sixth, that has to be the weakest attempt at a web based form that I have ever encountered on par with this one that I would like you to return to me:

++++++++++++++++++++++++FORM+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Name____________________________
Billing Address_____________________
Credit Card Issuer___________________
Credit Card Number__________________
CSV Number_______________________
++++++++++++++++++++++++FORM+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thanks! I'm going to need this form right away.

Seventh, there is no corporate website. See the first discrepancy on how to resolve this problem. OK, I'm done with this.

Hi Jenny, it's Ionfarmer again.

I don't know what you guys were talking about, but she must have been worked up because I could hear her banging the keys from clear in the other room! She told me to forget all about this job and move on, but I would really like to work from home and I think that spending more time around the house would bring my wife and I closer. As it is right now, I don't really see her much as I spend all night collecting the shoes and all day cobbling them, then I eat some pie and the whole thing starts over again.

Let me know what I have to do to get started with our new trial offer and we'll move on from there, but you can't let my wife know.

Don't Let Your Meatloaf,

Ionfarmer
Head of the Neighborhood Cobbler Association

Pondering whether to
cobble or eat potatoe pie.

Salt Lake City

2008-12-02T12:33:00.016-05:00

There always seems to be with me a desire to extensively document my travels, being the result of a hundreds of years of Irish migration across the face of the planet. Of course, the concepts as imagined are always more grand than the results. Perhaps, it is because I lack the desire as such to ensure that it happens. I mean that technology grows fast, even now you can see it in comparison with what once were high water marks. Technology grows faster than the people can evolve these days. Think of the Victorians looking back on the backwards ways of the caveman, the beatniks looking back on the Victorians, the Hippies looking back at thier parents, and I think for the first time were are looking back within a generation without the ability to understand the conceptual ideas between the extreme ends of the same generation. Perhaos we are living within the singularity event. It was seventy years before Wellsian idea of trips to the moon could be realized and now only a couple of decades between the word processors that Asimov could foresee and the existence of a complete editing suit available to create satisfactory results at 10000 feet.

Yet still the drive to make this happen missed the mark for me. I write at the electronic page and still I can't help but feel the need to be on, to entertain like a comedian desperately seeking approval. I am 2 miles high and jetting to Salt Lake City, and I can't help but be reminded of my first trip there. 1990 and the onset of another desperate attempt. This time an adventure of self discovery in a time when one could still hear the electronic thunder of arcades. I was riding a Greyhound bus across the country, quenching my wonder lust and forging a line across this country seeking simply what is. Not what I am told. It's is important that you never believe what you are told. Only religion and governments put forward th proposition that you should not only believe what you are told but do so without the ability to seek independent results.

4 Days in a Greyhound bus, 4 days that resulted in my PhD in yoga, and sleep deprivation. Some of those hours planted me squarely in Salt Lake City. In a bus station. Waiting for a bus. I was with a traveling companion by this point in the journey. He was a young man recently released from the Army, heading home to Napa Valley to his parents winery. We had noted each other in Ohio and by the time we got to Michigan we had agreed to watch each others back. Greyhound is the proper mode of transportation for desperate times. By Salt Lake City, we were tight enough to have some rudimentary trust and ate some lunch in a bus station cafe. In this cafe a homeless man had come in. He was a junkie, but wanted to gt clean. A POW veteran and voluntarily showed the battle scars to prove it. He passes the scrutiny of Chris's line o questioning. The cafe waitress called the cops on him and he was shown the way not to a rehab facility, not to a VA, not to any sort of place that could help, but to the bowels of Salt Lake City under the threat of arrest. Ain't that America?

The mode of travel is so different now in comparison. Can't imagine making the Greyhound trip, ah, it is the thing to be young. Now I travel in the thin sarcophagus of titanium, 450 mph and 10000 ft high, passing over New York. . . Ohio. . .Michigan. . .And able to watch the journey in real time. 6X8 screens are fabricated into the headrests, displaying a bevy of useful information as well as presenting an opportunity to clip a traveler of excess coin. I can see some of the rows boot up Red Hat Linux. The in flight meals for sale. I guess the airline did not get the public memo concerning airline food and comparisons thereof, often times drawing the inference of a Sumo wrestler, a burning tire and the defecation process. I can see the old and wizened digits of my elders reach toward the screen and cycle through menus, often finding the games menu. Big Money, Bejeweled, Trivia, the paper thin liver spotted skin sheathing the delicate blue veins as this imperfect input device makes several selections until the correct choice is made. For some reason, this made me think of my mother, as she is not a regular flight traveler, but has been in the last several years, taking flights to Utah and Massachusetts to see her sons, ore often than her boys have logged air miles to see her. Often this is a matter of mental pain for me and I guess there would not me the right amount of air miles to log to correct this situation. The wife is resistant to air travel and I have foolishly thrown myself into the gears of corporate work instead of tending the local matters. Did not want to relive that quality of life later. A job s a job and should always be seen as such unless it is your own. You can't fall into the cheer leading and the slogans and the office propaganda. Keep yourself in mind and free yourself. I fell so guilty that I put so much of myself into my work, the extra hours and the mental tax of creative thinking to make new actions occur in the same old stolid framework, what a fool I have been.

Flying over Bushnell, South Dakota, heading towards West Dakota at 465 mph, 37997 feet. The prodding of the 6x8 touchscreen continues. I watch the games, poker most recently, and It made e realize the major flaw of this set up, these screens should be networked for an interactive experience. I have seen the screens reboot several times, they seem to be a balanced network, rebooting at separate times. It uses red-hat Linux, and it is some sort of small computer version. Delta uses Linux and it shows. Anyway, I know the screens are networked together, so it wouldn;t be that much of a change to get the screens to interact and make common game rooms, chat, and the like, allowing an interactive experience in the air between passengers. “Seat 22D would like to join this hand.” etc.

Damn! I mean good!

Theyy already have it, but only for trivia as far as I can tell, which is hardly fair, as grandma doesn't stand a chance in pop music trivia.

The arrival was good, and immediately as I stood in the Sal Lake City airport, the feel of the west hit me. This feeling may be unique to me, but as best I can tell, in addition to the general atosphere, humidity, quality of the air, it is the way information is posted as well. The airport looks like a western airport. It's the way things are laid out and how things are displayed.

I picked up the hummer. The choices are red, white and blue. I went red. It seeemed appropriate. The machine drives well, solid, ad self assured. I am hoping to get a chance to put it through its paces somewhere out here. I brought a GPS with me. It's an oder Garmin 2600, but it still holds up just fine. The feature that keeps it as y main line destination informant is that it lets me know if it is located on the left or on the right side of the street. A simple feature, but from what I understand, a feature that hasn't entirely caught on.

Monday comes as we decide to go to Antelope Island. The baby's car seat does not fit well in the Hummer and my mother, my brother and his wife and myself transfer to the Toyota Tundra. At this point the baby breaks down, it cannot take this much bustle and my brother's wife and the baby stay home. We fire up the Hummer and head out.

Antelope Island costs $9.00 to access the park, but it's a great drive. The island has a visitor center that informs you about the salt lake and th sea monkeys therein. From there we traveled and saw some buffalo and tried to hit a cafe that has closed for the season. Then we went to Garr

Ranch. This was good to see, a ranch that was a working ranch until some time in the 1970's. It must have been a great place to ranch as the Lake came right up on the back 40. It was beautiful in is way and somewhat preserved, reminiscent of the way of life I have seem amongst my relatives in West Virginia.

By this point we are into mid afternoon and head to get something to eat. I haven't eaten since breakfast on Sunday. We stop at a Sonic. Mmmmm. Sonic.

My brother works tomorrow and the next day is quiet. It is a chance to regather the thoughts and plan another outing. Tomorrow I take my mother out to see Promontory point and the Golden Spike.

We head out early and make a northerly route. No traffic and the town of Roy, Utah gives way to the great expanse of the west, bordered on the horizon line by mountain ranges. Beautiful. The GPS guides us into the park and we are the sole people here. The ranger gives us a detailed and I am sure a historically accurate portrayal of the events surrounding the driving of the golden spike and the union of the east and West rail lines. We watch a movie that would not be out of place in my 1978 history class. Then we survey the sight. Not much to see, just 2 diffent rail lines coming together, 2 types of manufacture. Photographically hard to detail. I take a short video.

We see a sign coming into the park that leads us towards the Spiral Jetty. This is the sign I have been searching for. I saw a documentary on this work of art and really wanted to see it in person. The smooth gravel road gave way to a packed dirt cowpath after a mile. I couldn't have been more enthusiastic about this, and as a courtesy gave Mom the chance to bail out at this point, which she did not, which was wise because it wouldn't have happened anyway.

Looking back at it, renting the Hummer was a gamble. I figured that having a large vehicle, roomy would be nice for the whole famn damily, but we never did get that opportunity. The pay off was two fold though, and I highly recommend that you rent a vehicle like this if you have the chance when travelling out west. I was constantly on the edge with this thing. By that, I mean the edge of a total Hunter S. Thompson adventure, they depth and scope of which is beyond contemporary comprehension, and definably outlawed by homeland security. I hadn't planned on being over whelmed at my age for this level of wanderlust, and I know that I began to create a pharmaceutical shopping list that was copious and multifaceted in it's utility. My God, man, a rental Hummer? What are they thinking? I am well aware from my experience as a corporate traveler that rental cars have indestructible suspensions and there is practically no need for the brakes except to test the limit of your bravery. I reiterate: My God.

Somehow, after I leave the rental desk, I regain my composure and put the temptation in check. It's about the family this week. And despite the gonzo siren call of Dr. Thompson, I still think the the behemoth vehicle is correct for 2 reasons: First of all, the Hummer was right for this journey as anything less than 4WD will be a mistake in the snow and the mountains and the plains as I have envisioned it. Second, it had the room to accommodate any situation I could for see and the balls to accommodate any situation I could not.

We busted up that road good! In the end, the shield that protects the oil pan came off, a repair I would have to make at my brother's garage later.

In the end we finally arrive at the Spiral Jetty, and it is well worth the trip. The Jetty will not be preserved as the artist, Robert Smithson, had an affinity towards entropy and believed that this should be a feature of his art. I am glad I had a chance to see it , to walk it, and in a small way, but virtue of my footsteps, be come part of the artwork. It is an inspiring piece to see. It was great timing to see it as well. We spend 2 hours in time and we are the only ones here. Nice.

We bust up the road heading back as well. It is a 25 mile long rock encrusted, mud-hole infested 4WD dream, running the mountainside skirting the Great Salt Lake. We bounce along at 40 MPH. A Rental Hummer? Are you kidding me? For a third time: My God! At one point the OnStar system starts ringing, but I don't answer. I am sure that GPS has reported me as missing somewhere ind the Great Salt Lake, as the lake was way down and there was an opportunity to run that Salt Flat. In the end I have reached a compromise with Dr. Thompson that neither of us would have been satisfied with, but was better than the alternative.

Near the main drag to town, we are road blocked by a herd of cattle. 2 Cowboys are working them, a horse mount and an ATV mount. I gave them a gracious amount of time to get them going across. Tired of waiting I see an opening and take it. I am shy of causing a stampede, but just barely. Knowing there is nothing I can do, I proceed until I am clear then I gun it. I don't know if the cowboys would enforce a penalty for running the herd, but if they did I imagine it would probably be pretty steep. Mom laughs gleefully through all this. I keep an eye in the rearview mirror in case I have transgressed further tham I have sensed. Why oh why didn;t I pick up a concealed weapons permit while I was here? The handgun conceal carry laws are very casual, friendly and beckoning, and recognized by 28 states.

We stop and grab a meal at a local restaurant and head back to my brother's place. He is home, he got off work a little early for the holiday.

We decide to go out for a meal at a Barbecue place. Alexander doesnt want any part of it and the baby and the wife stay home. My brother and I dig into a Carolina pulled pork samdwich, andMom picks up the rhythm wth a Rib-eye. Good stuff.

When we return from the meal, we begin to play with the Wii. The Wii is seductive and misleading. The wii constantly lies to you when you begin to play it, inferring that you need to make all th movements with all the force as you would in real life. We played Wii Sports for 2 days, bowling and tennis, and some others, and it is great fun. Thanks giving is coming tomorrow.

We get up and go to Wal*Mart to pick up the peanut oil. Yes, we are going to deep fry the turkey. Or at least that is our intention, as we soon discover that the kettle for the turkey fryer has frozen with the oil in it and the round bottom spells disaster. We will have a traditionally roasted turkey.

The Turkey is most and delicious and there is green beans and home made rolls, cranberry sauce and ashed potatoes and turkey gravy and stuffing. We ash it down with sparkling cranberry and apple juice. Nice. Then we make time for the Video and Photography session with Alexander. He is in a good mood and wide awake. Good photo opportunities abounded. Afterwards, I make repairs to the Hummers, fixing the Oil pan shield back in place. Remember to check all nuts and bolts for tightness before ragging out a rental Hummer. Apparently this was loosely fixed to the frame for ease of oil changing.

Friday we visit and rest, and play Wii some more, this time exploring Resident Evil 4. I am handed the controls, and I run with it. It was a lot of fun and I play for a couple of hours, taking the observation team of my family a little farther than they had advanced. I never playd it before but have seen the guide for it on G4 TV like 4 times, enough to make a dent into the story line. I keep this part to myself.

I wrap it out and begin to pack up for the day ahead. My mother and I have early flights out of SLC and plan to ride in together.

My sister stay up later than the rest talking. The morning comes early.

The coffee is ready when my mother and I awake and we hit the airport. I kinda hate dropping off the Hummer and think of the adventure I could have if I would just point the thing East and gun it. It's a great idea, but only an idea. I hand in the keys and feel like Superman would putting on the Clark Kent disguise. I go inside and get in line with the rest of the schmucks.

As the plane ascends, I get my last few views of the salt lake before we hit the cloud ceiling. The water is flat and glassy, looking like it is convecting, reflecting the mountains, and I search the image it portrays, seeking the future and wondering what it will hold. In those few moments I see the road oft described in classic rock songs. There was definitely 2 paths I could go by and I swear to God that just for a moment the warm smell of Colitas were in the air.

Migrant Ion Farmer VS T-Mobile

2008-09-24T20:45:00.004-05:00

Today I got a promotional e-mail from my buddies at T-Mobile:

It's here.
Introducing the T-Mobile G1 with Google(TM).
Order your phone now for a limited time only.

Discover the answers to all of your questions right at your
fingertips -- with the new T-Mobile G1.
It's everything you've imagined. Everywhere you are. Now available
exclusively for T-Mobile(R) customers while supplies last.*

learn more at t-mobileG1.com

Well, hey now! I gotta go check that site out! And I did too, but, unfortunately, I don't think they were able to drum up the emotional response they intended. In fact, I didn't know how I felt about T-Mobile until I saw that ad. I couldn't help it. I had to write them:

Dear Announcements:

I watched your advertisement and the first thing I noticed was the phone's digital clock reads 2:47 and the analog widget clock reads 9:11 and I can't help but wonder is this the same attention to detail I can expect to see in the actual design of this device?

I hope to God that it doesn't come with the same level of service, software support, continued support, and functionality that my HP6315 came with. It was borderline fraud to even call that thing a phone, as I missed and dropped more calls with that part-time cell phone than any device I have ever used including CB radios. How could you even sell a phone that randomly dials people from your contact list? I felt so mad and violated after dropping $400 on that half designed slickster and then getting stuck without HP or Windows Mobile continued upgrades. I loved the idea of the HP6315, but you have to admit that the ball was dropped here. I mean how cool was it that I could use a telnet client to bring up a Unix shell on my phone?! That was probably the only reason I stayed with it as long as I did. Now I am just a broken customer, doing my time with T-mobile until I have a good enough rational to change providers. Why? Could it be that my HP6315 that I loving repaired and came back to again and again in an Lifetime Channel-esque abusive relationship is now just a glowing ornament on my desktop? Is it the single bar of coverage I perpetually get at my home or the 2 bars I received at my home before that? Is it the fact that I am now using the free Samsung slider that came with my wife's account, broken screen and all. It was the same crushing feeling that one would feel to their ego by transitioning from a Jaguar X-12 to an '87 Yugo as a daily driver. Although it is true that both are going to spend a lot of time in the garage, it is a complete difference in how you are perceived when you arrive. After this experience, I can tell you this, on a philosophical level, cellularly, I am free-balling and will take the next reasonable smart phone package that comes my way when I find it. Yes, I have taken the time to be candid with your company, and yes this is how apathetic I feel towards the whole T-Mobile gestalt. This unsolicited response might be nothing or it might be something, but,if you have any incentives to keep me hanging on as a T-Mobile customer, now would be the time to pull them out. Maybe then, just then, I could stop crying myself to sleep at night.

Sincerely,

Ion Farmer

Hak 5 & Darren Kitchen

2008-08-22T21:21:00.010-05:00

I watched the latest live symposium that Hak .5 aired last Friday night. At some point Darren asked for some show ideas. I wrote him this e-mail:

Darren: I have been a fan of Hak .5 since the first season, and cannot tell you about the countless hours I have spent reviewing the methods and cataloging my all time favorite segments so I could reference them in the future. My knowledge has increased immensely because of this show but most importantly, because of the Hak .5 cloud of informative entities that are knowledgeable and helpful. I have explored a lot of the concepts put forth on the show and am to grateful for the numerous ways my home network has improved because of the show. The latest way is the Green/Purple/Orange Smoothwall firewall I established in my home on an obsolete computer augmented with a Power over Ethernet modified wireless Linksys in my attic that allows me some backyard wireless and passersby to use the wireless without risk to my home network. Again, Thanks for all that you have done.

Last night on the live feed there was a request for show ideas to round out the new aggressive shooting schedule. I have one that I freely give to the show. A little background. . .the thing that kept me watching the show is the appreciation for the old school computer ways that drive the new techniques. I delved into the BBS history that I had either forgotten or was unaware of because of this show and came across Jason Scott's site and documentary. This was a goldmine for me, and I had experienced a lot of it first hand. I explored Issue9ethan & Famicoman's excellent repository of Synchronet information, and ran with that. I got to play a lot of L.O.R.D. on the Hak5 BBS and it was way fun. So with that said, why not a Classic Retro segment to round out your show that takes a look at/explains some of the retro technology and how it has changed in the new age. You can tag it up with old gaming systems, the BBS, old media storage, old computer systems, new computer systems, on site exploration of where historical events took place (Like the first ARPA net contact). I think there is a rich field here that can be mined for time in a rewarding manner, that pays tribute to those who went before us, educates new users and reinforces the older users. In addition, there are still a lot of vintage computer users out there that STILL run BBS's on old machines. I'd be cool to put a road trip together, hit one right after the other on a carefully planned itinerary with some interview questions about their system, and feed the result out in a weekly series interview by interview. Should the road tripping be prohibitive in some manner, your could still hook it up with Skype interviews and pull it off. Well, thanks for your time concerning this idea, and best of luck at your new home w/ Rev3.

Montani Semper Liberi,
Ion Farmer
PS: Where's my stickers? My eeePC is naked.

(I didn't drop the sticker hint for free swag, I donated some cash months ago for stickers that didn't arrive.) So about 3 hours later I got a reply:

First off thanks for writing in I really appreciate the feedback and from the sound of things you've totally put the technolust to practice. That's awesome to hear about your home network. Awesome ideas as well, I'm going to have to take you up on that. After doing 3x03, the 1984 Arcade episode I really got the bug for documentary film work. I think a road trip around historic technological sites and interviews with the people that made this wonderful network playground for us would be so much fun to shoot as well as truly inspiring for the next generation. I don't have the time to devote time off the show to do a Jason Scott style documentary but we could do reoccurring segments on technology history. If you have any specific ideas totally shoot them by me. As for your eeePC, shoot me your address and I'll send you out some stickers :)

Cheers,
Darren

So I was going out the door this morning and check the mail, and lo and behold I spied this poking out of the box at me.

So I got my stickers finally and they are quite nice! I quickly used them to cover my eeePC's naked shame!

So, all in all, very cool and I wish the very best for Hak .5 cast and crew on their move to Rev 3. If you haven't spent some time taking in Hak 5 you really should. You just might learn something, and that's one to grow on. Anyway, check 'em out at www.hak5.org and if you have any good ideas about some retro/classic digital history locations, people, and the like, let me hear you OR you could write Darren yourself and maybe get some stickers to cover up your computer's naked shame.

Law 25: Re-Create Yourself

2008-08-15T22:20:00.002-05:00

Do not accept the roles that society foists on you. Re-create yourself by forging a new identity, one that commands attention and never bores the audience. Be the master of your own image rather than let others define it for you. Incorporate dramatic devices into your public gestures and actions --- your power will be enhanced and your character will seem larger than life.

This is in the forefront for me now as I struggle with the balance of my current career position and the dawn of a new position. I am become the actor, the role I portray becomes the role I inherit. It is with this thought that I have to define my actions, my demeanor, and the depth of my character, the pivotal position of vision and action imbued with wisdom of decision. I will channel the spirits of those who held this Law as a standard before me. I am Julius Caesar on the banks of the Rubicon. I am Aurore Dupin Dudevant smoking George Sand's cigar. I am Velaquez painting Las Meninas. I am Franklin Roosevelt during the Hundred Days. I am the tip of the whip dreaming of the welt. I am the bullet in the dark chamber of a gun.

I am thinking of a phrase coined by my good friend Chad, about a place we both knew. He said, "This place is a high school with ashtrays." I hear that phrase in my mind as I walk those the dingy factory I am working in now. I didn't like the place when I first arrived there, and as I got to see how things were organized, I liked it less. I am not saying that the methods are incorrect. I am saying that the culture there has never been a match for my working style. The thinking is a little too narrow for my taste. I am all about a vision and a mission, and thus far, it has been my own that has given me the impetus to achieve.

Currently, I have failed in masking my dis-satisfaction, but I do not think it is too late. My mistake was not forging an identity that goes on when I go to work, one that cannot take things personally because it is merely a role to play, a mask to wear. It is far easier to play the role you envision that to make the sweeping changes of your vision. I mean these are just methods to conceptualize your position, but still . . there seems something to this.

Starlight Shine Eternal

2008-06-10T21:35:00.004-05:00

This is the first night I had a night swim. I don't know the reason, perhaps the deep sense of relaxation, but it struck me as such the perfect night. It was a night so perfect in mood and feel, a comfortable 79F, slight wind bringing stray scents of spring blooms and snatches of children cries of delight from some streets over, quarter moon glow, the leaves rustling. Yes, it is a night reminding me of the old days, staring at the ageless stars that heroes and villains from taleless aeons wondered upon, brightly lit stars, weightless in the celestial bowl, hinting at tales of mythology wondrous and yet elusive.

This is the season of the graduation party, (best enjoyed junior year, waiting to be next) hearing the well laid plans of those juggernauting into the dim unknown. It is the season of the forbidden gathering, sneaking a 12-pack some impossible way, finding a stretch of woods or a parking lot and having the best beer: The illegal, taboo, beer, the illicit forbidden fruit, never tastier, fresher, sharper than right now. Maybe you find yourself fireside, weaving incredible stories, narrations of bold conquest, or pondering the way life will unfold. Only the young can live as Vikings, Viking who are consigned to live a life that is History's glory days that Father Time tells repeatedly and with relish at the end of the bar. Now is the time, life is never better because the possibilities seem infinite, and the vastness of that possibility eliminates the perimeters that are the bounds of life.

Ah, yes, but back to the topic this week: Piracetam. Pracetam did not cause the headaches apparently it was the lack of coffee, as I have not had any more problems with it. I am noticing a deeper sense of relaxation and ability to concentrate daily. Very subtle, very tangible.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

2008-06-08T21:26:00.002-05:00

Not much to say here today. Hot, hot, hot damn it's hot outside. 94F and I sunburned myself talking on the phone with my brother while in the pool. I took 2000 mg of the serum in Iced Tea. Not bad. I was casual with it today, not dosing myself until 10:00 am. Followed up with another 2000 mg shot at about 2:00 pm. Suffered another headache today. Fleetingly I thought that this my be the serum, because this is a side effect of the drug, but further thoughts made me realize that I don't go after cups of coffee when I use the serum, therefore I could very well be withdrawal from the caffeine. Here's the deal; I had the second dose after the first headache on the first day & I had the second dose before the headache on the second day. This seemingly make the time of the second dose independent of the headaches. On both days i didn't drink coffee until after the headache set in; 4:00 pm the first day, 3:00 pm the second day. In both cases the headache was relieved, therefore I think that it is more of a caffeine thing than a Piracetam issue. At noon I barbecued some chicken, and made foil packs of potatoes, onions, and peppers (green & cubanelle) to throw on the grill. Note here that the foil packs should get direct heat on the grill. Mine were indirect and didn't get the crispness I wanted. I was worthless after lunch. I had too much sun I think.

Listening to The Secret Agent Channel as I write this, and I kind o' dig it immensely.

Saturday Goes Down

2008-06-07T22:37:00.003-05:00

Started the day with a 2000mg dose at 6:00 am and found that I didn't want any coffee. I went down for nap at 8:00 am. I guess I didn't get enough sleep the night before. Got up again at 9:00am and got ready to head out to the shops. Didn't get out the door until 11:00 am, took another 2000 mg dose and shopped. Came home, stowed the goods, and started working around the pool, blasting the tiles to clean them with a new power washer. Then I got in the pool and enjoyed a couple of ice colds. It was 4:00 pm before realized I hadn't eaten today, and that was only due to the nagging headache I was feeling come on. I made some coffee and held a sausage festival. I grilled 2 frankfurters, a bratwurst, and 6 red hot Italian sausages. It was the best sausage fest I ever attended.

After that I started to recuperate from the low blood sugar. I connected a 500 GB drive to an ancient computer and turned it into Network Attached Storage and an FTP server via the modern miracle of FreeNAS. There's tons of tutorials about it out there and it is really quite easy. I recommend that you try and hook up and old computer and yourself at the same time.

Also, the wife discovered the Piracetam, researched it and signed off on it, which is way cool given her RN background. Also, I told my brother, who didn't sign off on this experiment, not because of the material, but because of my lack of stringent scientific method. According to him, I don't have a control group, so my research has no validity. My methods have become unsound. I'm not really arguing this point, I just thought I was going to dabble a bit, not submit a paper to the American Journal of Psychiatry. Oh well, damn my aberrant behavior! I argue the the vast majority of the populace not ingesting Piracetam is my control group.

So to spite the naysayers, I Will continue to call what I am doing an experiment in psychonautic frontiers and I will also continue to call my garage "The Laboratory" and to take it yet one step further, the Piracetam will here forth be referred to as "the Serum".

Big Black Tub

2008-06-06T04:46:00.007-05:00

The Piracetam arrived yesterday in a big black tub, like all the Creatine weight lifting recovery drinks I've seen at the GNC's I've sporadically have entered through out my lifetime. So without hesitation, I fired it up, 2000mg in a Crystal Light media straight to the brain. I have to say that most of the effects I felt were the apprehension of taking Piracetam for the first time. I was anxious, it was 5:00 pm and I didn't know what to expect. At first, there were no effects. By 7:00pm, I was in a good state of well being and felt a general sense of good adjustment. By 8:00 pm, I actually felt pretty witty and I think that this was the peak. I was in bed at 11:00 pm, but felt a little more up than usual, a little excited for what ever reason.

So there you go, nothing earth shaking about this so far, an I've had a similar effect on my state of well being by mega-dosing vitamins while starving for vegetables on board my old submarine.

I fired up 2000 mg first thing this morning, backed with 2 mega-vitamins and packed another 2000mg for lunch. I will continue at a later point, with a detailed report of my day. I will try to note any incredibly insightful witticisms, real or imagined for your reading pleasure.

~~~LATER~~~

So the gold rush is over for today. All in all it was a fun experience. I found that I didn't want as much coffee as I normally do. It seemed as if my mind was more alert, and I didn't need the coffee. Also, it seemed as if obscure words and phrases I would have to take time to dig up from my memory were right there for me, on time, when I needed them and fit in the context perfectly. I noted that I suffer form a diminished sense of smell and discovered that this is anosmia. This condition is probably related to my submarine days, sinusitus, and other olfactory degrading activities. I took the second dose at noon and the peak for me seemed to come on at 2:30 pm and crescendo at 3:45 pm. I had several a-ha insights into the plasma chamber I work on, that required no effort and side stepping hours of trouble shooting. I mean that happens quite regularly for me, but today the results came without effort. So far the first 24 hours of psychonautic experimentation is rewarding and I am encouraged to proceed forward.

The State of The Ion Farmer

2008-06-03T20:32:00.005-05:00

For the past year and a half I have been involved with a New Product Introduction that actually transitioned well compared to it's starting point. This was at the expense of as semblance of a personal life, yet amazingly, I was able to close on a house last year and not lose my mind. I lacked the ability to travel within my circle of friends, treated them poorly due to my lack of time. I was on the order of 80 hour weeks not most of the year, with any downtime being used to recuperate. To my friends that read this, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for being sucked into my job and becoming numb. I am aware of this now and am actively seeking to make amends.

I currently find myself on the back end of that now, looking at an industry lull that has a bleak horizon line. I was told that my position with he company is relatively safe because of my seniority. Maybe it's self-preservation or paranoia, but that makes me nervous. It's probably the old submarine days lurking in my subconsciousness that makes me know that when someone says there's nothing to worry about, you should keep you eyes open. For now I will operate with the Submariner's Creedo: "Be Bitter. Admit Nothing. Blame Everyone."

As you can tell not only by this hot streak of 2 posts in 1 week, but by the contents within, I am reflective, introspective. I lost a close friend personally and to my family last April. "Safari" Charlie Cavendish was the king of the Rivers of West Virginia. I lament his passing daily, and as was his way, am left puzzled by it. He was found in his bed and the age of 36. If you truly knew Charlie, you knew that he was too weird to live, and to beautiful to hold captive. His heart was wild and just being in his presence for a while was purely spiritual. An like so many things spiritual, these concepts cannot be understood in a brief time.

Charles Curtis Cavendish
April 12, 2008

Charlie truly felt the weight of this world, a world that can not come to terms with pure individual freedom. Charlie found his passions in nature and in the act of translating that joy, and making the secrets of nature's joy known to the uninitiated. The syllabus was a series of practical demonstrations that if you don't come to understand individual freedom and act in accordance with it, you cannot understand nature and act in accordance with that, and ultimately you cannot understand life as a natural event as a whole and act in accordance with it. I miss him terribly.

Psychonaut

2008-06-01T20:37:00.002-05:00

I always identified with the whole idea of the psychonaut. Perhaps it's the unrewarding position I find myself in my work life, or maybe the isolation I feel being so far away from my family and friends, but I need to explore. I always have the need to adventure, and that need has been woefully neglected, and for no good reason. So, I want to let the adventure begin.

My plan has a three pronged attack.

Number One: Piracetam. This smart drug entered my radar via a new acquaintance I've met. Basically, it is not a scheduled drug in the US, and has had many clinical neurological improvements noted in studies. According to EROWID the effects seem subtle, yet intriguing. Best part? Oh yeah, Amazon.com deals it. More to follow on this I am sure. This alone should provide a psychonautic log that should be an interesting read.

Number Two: Abuse the MBTA. I should be riding the hell out of this and exploring the urban landscape. No where is off limits. I'm going to vastly expand my knowledge of the area.

Number Three: Make this adventure a photo documentary.

Hopefully this will give me the fuel to keep this blog rolling and of course I will be using The Handbook of All Things Adventure. The only problem is when you're in a tight spot when you are young, you can fast talk your way with pure ignorance of the law, but the older you get, the more it looks shady. But then freedom has always come with a price.

Let's see how this works out. . .

Not once did I post last year.

2008-02-06T21:20:00.000-05:00

Not one time. What can I say, I am a cad, but here's the thing, I bought a new home, moved and switched my job around within that year. I still don't think I'm quite settled, but I'm a lot closer. The home has a pool and an ice cream man that makes more regular rounds than the mail carrier of ambiguous sex. This is probably the place to post some pics when I get a chance. . .

2006-10-07T06:34:00.000-05:00

War Thoughts

2006-08-01T08:40:00.000-05:00

I read a news story just now that strikes me as absurd. It is the brouhaha about Governor Mitt Romney using the term tar baby. When asked about his influence on Boston's Big Dig Bridge Tunnel project, Gov. Romney stated that he wanted to stay away from that tar baby. Although I can understand this word probably is antiquated, I still find it hard to believe that any intelligent person would suggest that the governor of Massachusetts was making a racial slur against a bridge tunnel. I know that the term tar baby has, unfortunately, been used in an unflattering way towards subsections of our society, I think in this case the context was clear; that the governor did not want to get entangled in a sticky situation. Besides, everyone knows the Bridge Tunnel project is an Uncle Tom.

There's lots of war in the news. Wars and rumors of wars, there are those that say we are in the beginning phases of World War III. That may be true, but we will see. I am not trying to be an alarmist about the situation though, in fact I feel a little relieved and I'll tell you why: remember all the ridiculous weapons and fear that our jackbooted friends in the homeland security department came up with after 9/11? Remember the suitcase nukes? Remember the dirty bombs? Remember the shoe bomber? Remember the anthrax? Remember the impending doom threatened on us like chemical nuclear and biological weapons that seemed to be lurking around every corner? remember the duct tape and plastic sheets? Well, I have every belief that if there was a stockpile of all these truly horrible things, we would see them getting used in Israel right now. I mean, there's a lot of tension going on out there Iran's getting their troops fired up, Syria's getting their troops fired up, and there's not too many media stories about all the countries that are hiding in the background waiting to aid their allies. These recent Gaza Strip activities have polarized nations, in a way that makes me reflect back on Archduke Ferdinand's assassination in World War I.

The way I see it, I think this is about to get a lot worse. I can't help it feel that America's offensive in Afghanistan, and subsequent offensive in Iraq are strong precursors in the situation. There are multiple points on which this offensive has been waged, the search for Osama bin Laden, the war on terror, bringing freedom and democracy to Iraq, the search for weapons of mass distraction, etc. but these reasons all seem to have a common theme of vengeance and retribution gowned in the foppery of a preemptive strike. Now this is a theme that it jihadist can sink his teeth into.

It is these vengeance/retribution themes that I keep coming back to when I look back on the situation. Probably the news article that disturbed me the most and yet was the most unbelievable to me, was a story I read about a ship the U.S. Navy was building using and I-beam from the World Trade Center as the keel. What is up with this? I've found that story to be a little bit repulsive my version of American sensibility. It was like reading about a Nazi blood ritual or some other medieval ceremony whose whole sole purpose was to inspire bloodthirstiness.

The Middle East is a situation that America had grown complacent about for a great number of years, and quite frankly, was an Uncle Tom that no US president wanted to touch. Although we had had our run ins with the violence in the Middle East, such as the hostage situation in 1979,it had been a policy to firmly negotiate in situations, repercussions. We suffered small losses in both personnel and pride, but the overall effect was that this turd stayed in our neighbor's backyard. That is until 9/11. To me it seems there is no denying the calculated brilliance of 9/11.

America has long been taunted to bring its troops into a Middle East conflict. 9/11 was the gambit that produce this result. The result was calculated and proved effective. This too is a common theme I see in this conflict, you can see it with the Soviets in Afghanistan, where a large, industrial, mechanized army is drawn out to engage a guerrilla force on its home turf. The lessons that were taught in the Vietnam conflict have been well studied and well used by small enemies. This tactic is also effective in morale. In the home country, every enemy's death can be seen and is therefore tangible to those that know the area. In the converse, the death of a soldier is seen as happening far away, killed by invisible enemies, are not understood.

I think it is precisely these reasons that we have not been engaged in this area in the past. I think it took a spectacle as large as 9/11 to provoke us. I think it was a one-time event, that had the desired effect. There is no further need to terrorize America in my opinion, for what would be the purpose? America is in a reactive state whereby its actions are prompted by the actions of others. This is a very dangerous situation, for you are no longer in control of the situation. In this case, in the desert, in the mountains, there is plenty of time and solitude to construct well conceived and highly detailed scenarios which may be put into play.

No Escape From The Planet Of The Apes

2006-06-27T10:07:00.000-05:00

Hiya, Hiya, Hiya!

I had an interesting meeting 2 weeks ago. I met an inventor and all around good-guy from Tokyo, Japan by the name of Shuji. We were working together at the Ion Farm when I heard someone mention that he was a paraglider. Now I knew that there was an activity called paragliding and it involved a modified parachute, but there was a lot I didn't realize as well. That's when Shuji broke out his videos. These were amazing to see. The man had been paragliding for 8 years and said it was easy and anybody could do it. He said it took him 3 months to get his license. The hook had been set and now that's what I want to do.

Soon I began looking for other videos and good information. I remember thinking nearly the entire time that Shuji was explaining his sport that I have a brother that lives in Utah, so why aren't we doing this? I found paragliding sites close to were I live, sites in West Virginia, and, of course, Utah. Now I'm getting really stoked up about the whole thing. I found a paragliding instruction school near Salt Lake City, that can certify you as a novice solo pilot in 8-10 days, allowing half of the instruction fee to be used towards gear.

It took me 2 weeks to get in contact with my brother due to the cell phone blues, but I eventually did and he said that he would be more than happy to videotape me doing my thing, but he will not pursue paragliding. I respect that.

So now, I have to find the slice of time I want for myself to make this thing happen. I'm way-hey-hey-hey excited about this!!

Drive-In Memorial Days

2006-05-29T09:25:00.000-05:00

Memorial day is the time to take a trip. Always has been and always will be. I can link Memorial day with endless hours on the road passing through all sorts of small towns, nestled on the fingers of innumerable country and state routes all over the country. I always have liked the back roads, away from the super highways packed with millions racing to their destination. In my mind, the backroads are like a slide show of real American history because I can see the images of how a town was, the traffic leading to and from, and the small mom and pop stores that defiantly clinged to their businesses to spite he K-marts and Wal-marts that haven't deemed the local communities worthy of an utter onslaught, bringing the iron rule of total comsumerism, seeking slaves to chain to their form of economics, granting a discount in exchange for identities for more efficient marketing. I've seen the Orv's Gas and Snacks of the world fade on distant horizons and taking the COLD BEER signs on the side of the buildings with them. Orv never cared who the hell I was, it wasn't his business. He business was selling Gas, COLD BEER and Snacks.

I guess that is why it was so great to slick out of my local area this weekend to hit Mendon, MA. Why? Because this is the home of the Mendon Twin Drive-In! The wife and I dig Drive-ins the most. They are great! The Mendon Twin had more people actually out of their cars, setting in lawn chairs and partying than any place we have been in the past. There were ice cream faced kids running around everywhere tossing frisbees and footballs. It didn't matter what was playing on the screen (In his case it was "The DaVinci Code" & "RV") because the atmosphere was great. It was everything I remember a Drive-in should be.

The Mendon Twin Drive-in was built in 1953 and opened on June 14, 1954. The drive-in has been in operation for 46 years. Which explains the feeling of authenticity that this place has. If there was such a thing as drive in bingo, I think that I could have cleaned up. Why? I saw it all: Families leaving after the first movie, teenagers moving into the back seat, prepubescent snack bar hang-out crowd, The pervasive aroma of stronger smokes coming from the vehicles parked in the back row (someone must have lit up a stogie).

All in all the whole deal was great fun. We got there at 7:00 PM and didn't leave until 1:30 PM. That's some entertainment dollar value! If you aren't buy on Memorial day, or any other traveling weekend for that matter, you should get to know this country and go off the beaten path.

Guitar Ex Machina

2006-05-12T13:54:00.000-05:00

I had always been interested in the guitar. My dad bought me one when I was 6. It was a smaller scale steel string acoustic, and I think it was a Hondo. It that age I can remember my dad picking on an acoustic with a black pickguard, always picking and experimenting, and he'd laugh when he made a run that made musical sense. I went for lessons when I was 6, in the evenings at the local junior high. Needless to say, I had met a lot of older kids there. Pimply face young men and women, dressed like a Salvation Army had thrown up. We worked out strumming some John Denver songs and old folk tunes. The steel strings ate up my 6 year old fingers. I brought my guitar in for show and tell one day. And that is the last I can remember of that guitar.

When I was 10, a neighbor had moved out and left me a gold color Les Paul style guitar. It was bad timing because I had just seen a series on the history of Rock & Roll, in which The Who had played predominately. I was 10, I had a guitar, and I had a driveway. My friends watched on (in horror) as I tried to recreate a proper guitar smashing. My friends knew, that if my folks knew what was going on, it would be my hide. I thought it was the cool thing to do at that moment, and the Les Paul created a gentle and graceful arc above my head. In an instant I started to batter that guitar against the driveway, adding small amounts of progressive damage. A knob flew off, wood splintered, and after a long while in the hands of a 10 year old, the neck yielded and I claimed victory. Victory over what, I don't know and since the neck was though body construction, I had to put out a great effort. It was a very unreasonable sweet smelling, warm, fall afternoon. I knew then that as long as one person knows what the most unreasonable cool thing to do in any given situation, Rock is not dead. Rock is not cool, Rock is the final result and expression of cool. Pete Townsend had made it look so easy, but let me tell you, getting total destruction on a solid body instrument requires a great deal of determination. I remember my folks coming out to see what was happening in the driveway after a long while, and the expressions on their faces when they saw the devestation. Both asked me in turn, "What did you do?!" and the response from my sweaty, red, beaming child face was, "Ain't it cool?"

I don't recall much of that day with clarity after that. It's like the volume was turned down.

I went to work the day I turned 16. I worked in the buffet department of an Airport Sheraton hotel. I set up rooms for business meeting, reunions, weddings, seminars, diet clubs, secret societies and proms. I actually got to set up my own prom, and barely evaded working it and tearing it down. Anyway, I bought another guitar with my first paycheck. I had wanted one for a while, but after the Les Paul Incident I can see why I was on my own. I bought a star shaped Crestline with a single humbucker. I got an amp with the next paycheck, a small 20A Gorilla. My next job was learning open chords. Then I decided I would learn one song totally and completely. Thank god for the three chord wonders of ACDC and The Scorpions. I started to learn a few tunes. There was a bass player named Phil that taught me the power chord an a plethora of Rush tunes. My buddy Alan taught me that you could play whatever you damn well pleased and a great exercise was to play with records and try to play the song without actually playing the notes of the song. After a year or longer I was playing in two bands, one being informal band, that I now call Orkfitz, (but could have been called Rat Scabies) playing a type of Acid Metal that actually sounded a lot what Jane's Addiction would be putting out some years later. The other was a band called Mantis that existed in the attic of Max's parent's house. It was a trio that played hair metal stuff. Both these bands taught me small amounts about what I was seeking and that was the communion of music. Sometimes you can hear a piece of music and it moves you on an emotional level, but when there is a group of musicians in a free form jam that are reading each others minds, well the effect I unlike anything this world has offered up to me.

I joined the military after a while and never had the chance to seriously play for about 6 years. I had to be co-erced into buying a guitar, and it opened those doors back up I thought had been shut a long while ago. I still play, but it's never going to be like it was when I was 18 and 19, a true acolyte searching for truth, naive and open faced, and hard at work with the band digging up experience.