Outbreak

Suspicious that a virulent plague was able to slip through our sterile defences, and put the whole freakin' world on lockdown, just out of the blue, suddenly, just like that.

Also strange that a resilient vaccine was effectively produced in so little time, and everything ended quite efficiently after the dullest period of postmodern existence.

I suppose that if our medical infrastructure is world renowned then it isn't surprising that a vaccine was developed so quickly, although if a virus was deadly enough to outmaneuver the infrastructure perhaps the vaccine should have taken longer to make.

So boring.

It couldn't have been more blasé.

I was lucky enough to have work and they couldn't cancel walks in the woods, but wide-ranging activities and sundry entertainments could no longer be accessed through direct application.

I was of the mindset that COVID did in fact exist and was malevolently taking on the world, and didn't think it was a hoax collaboratively designed to test drugs and obedience. 

Thus, I disagreed with the anti-vaxxers who saw themselves as freedom fighters, and thought the ways in which they were accessing their freedoms put their communities at risk.

Its origins and eventual spread around the unsuspecting globe do remain mysterious, there's no doubt it did exist, but why or how did it originate?

If it actually commenced in the East how was it able to feverishly escape, since that jurisdiction is already on lockdown with strict governmental oversight concerning everything?

It did escape, nevertheless, and was then dispersed around the globe, why weren't relevant airlines quickly shut down so the spread would obstinately decrease?

Obviously, there hadn't been a global pandemic for over a century and the Earth wasn't ready for old world demands, the interconnected interactive globe somewhat ill-suited to industrious plague.

I felt bad for the politicians who didn't know what to do, struggling to respond to questions they didn't know how to answer.

It was a great time for thoughtful inanity as so many came up with theories, the vast majority of which were incorrect, since really there was little one could do but suffer.

That's not very cheerful though and it doesn't make a very good story.

I still think the pandemic was worse than Trump.

Although things this time round are crazy bad. 

Atomic Cyborg

An apocalyptic take on commercial enterprise blends technology with fluent discord, as a reluctant cyborg ill-equipped to kill arm-wrestles a country diner where they're none too friendly. 

Sent to take out a messianic figure organically disposed to sustainable environmentalism, his conscience overtakes his imperial conditioning before he cuts loose for the low-key boondocks. 

His programmers are exceedingly frustrated and quickly set out to locate their merchandise, enlisting murderous ostentatious cacophonies to zero-in upon their quarry.

Meanwhile, he indeed be chillin' with a new job without much responsibility, for the first 24 hours or so anyways before he suddenly finds he's most unwelcome.

Being a cyborg has its advantages and he discovers he's quite the arm-wrestler nonetheless, and as feral champions gawk in awe he swiftly earns a lucrative income. 

But if he can be given an overhaul he may become an elite assassin, the mad conspirators running wild with seditious intent and gratuitous whimsy.

He does his best, just tryin' to get by, but ruthless conflict keeps on a callin'.

Doesn't hurt to be a cyborg however. 

Wildly attuned to chaotic endeavours. 

*Are cyborgs really like that dad? Do they still have thoughts and feelings? 

**As far as I know son, as far as I know. Although I think they're made with titanium. 

*That muscular bearded man we saw canoeing by himself last summer, he was a cyborg right?

**He looked like one, that's for sure, although I can't make an accurate call.

*I thought William from way back was a cyborg because he was so good at math, but then I saw his handwriting and figured he couldn't be a secret robot.

**I've never heard of cyborg children. I imagine they're like vampire children and Bene Gesserit children, abominations. 

*That would be weird being their teacher.

**No doubt son, no doubt.

*Cyborg-High the show might be cool though.

**I'd watch that for sure.

*Principal Schwarzeneggar?

**Professors Biehn and Hamilton.

*Popular with the A.I contingent.

**They're huge these days. Could be a thang.

Mojave Moon

Bored and withdrawn yet colourfully animated, a middle-aged carsalesperson orbits his existence, neither dissatisfied nor sincerely content, he curiously acquiesces to life's tomfoolery. 

The unexpected then emerging and quaintly tantalizing as he considers a proposal, a long day a drive into the unknown the desert notwithstanding its sweltering synergies. 

He's been recruited, a gorgeous damsel has indeed been locked down with abject familiarity, as has her daughter the brute's ambition for eternal stasis insipidly solidified. 

He doesn't quite understand the details the grand misfortune accompanying the fam, nor why he's there nor what he's to do with no explanation forthcoming aloha. 

The brute sees his happiness ruined as the tradition he loves is threatened by others, and conceives a rotten and fiendish yet clever plan to simultaneously dispose of his oblivious rivals. 

The desert abandoned things haunting peculiar when the trusted saviour finds a dead body in his trunk.

After which people steal his car.

Not boring.

Still one of those days. 

*Best not to grow too attached to things, eh dad, like the psycho in this movie?

**It's okay to be attached to things son, but you also have to be open to structural change. 

*I guess that kind of makes sense. Sometimes I hate it when things change, but at others it's kind of fun. 

**It's a shame you can't manage the unknown factor like a science experiment or a 500 word essay.

*But wouldn't that bring about artistic ruin?

**I suppose that's correct son. I suppose that's correct. 

Overboard

Absolutely adapting grandiose manifest in synthetic conjunctive rigamarole, as bucolic mystery enigmatically sheathes ostentatious origins through disenchantment.

A new life exceedingly envelopes the opulent damsel with thrifty means, and previously underdeveloped expectations suddenly take on didactic schmooze. 

It's a trick of course her new husband and family disbelieving their luck, as the oblivious plutocrat who blindly cheated them randomly shows up with amnesia. 

It's a new era in their lives, constructively complete with domestic bearings, instantaneously overwhelmed with comatose conjecture and improvised charm.

The lighter touch and the less severe endemic countenances prove endearing, a natural fit bewilderingly unbeknownst to the heartfelt darling metamorphosized. 

Yet as her unconscious helplessly seeks a broader path upon which to exemplify, her waking hours embrace play with mesmerized mischief and sincere conjuring. 

Should she choose to stay if she wakes up with consciousness accrued?

Or munificently synthesize the disparate means?

With bold immiscibility.

And thoroughbred temper.

*Is that how you and mom met dad?

**Not exactly son, not exactly.

*Does that kind of thing happen a lot?

**I imagine so son, I imagine so.

*I guess there are all kinds of ways people meet, you've got to be ready for anything. 

**It's important, takes time and care. 

*Flexibility.

**Tidal tenses. 

*Ebb and flow.

**Mercurial routine. 

Trucks

Machinery has on awkward occasion posed philosophical questions while at work, the consistent use of fuel-powered-entities blended with distraction leading to hypotheses. 

Such theories no doubt imaginatively aided by consistently observing different narratives throughout life, the uncanny ludicrous application of televisual conceit to work and play.

But if oil and gas is eventually created as life inevitably dissolves, it was therefore once indubitably alive in possession of thought and spirit and appetite (Plato).

Machines inarguably seem inanimate when not turned on when lying dormant, with no fuel warmly generating power to encourage motion and requisite function. 

But when active does the fuel they burn once composed of life once again draw breath?, ontologically igniting ancient schematics blueprints attuned to reanimation. 

As the reignited organic material takes hold of the metallic construction, it nurtures different kinds of behaviour, which is why machines seem like they have personalities. 

Thus, one takes it easy with older machines less intimately acquainted with flexible immediacy, while it's fun to reasonably play with brand new constructions recently made.

Trucks takes things to the next level and gleefully removes the human factor, the trucks indeed suddenly turning on their once unsuspecting masters.

As they take over the small town of Bridgeton there's little that the lords can do.

Besides try to find a way to get out of there.

Before machine-kind embodies absolute rule. 

*Isn't this what you'd call crackpottery dad, machines coming to life and killing everyone?

**That's certainly an argument you can make son, although the off-kilter theory still mystifies.

*Tough to stop your mind from wandering when doing boring stuff, isn't it dad?

**It's helped to make so many cool stories.

*I still don't think machines are alive.

**You're probably right. But, really, who's to say? 

*Sigh. Okay, maybe driverless cars are a bad idea.

**Good to keep humans in the loop son.

*No doubt. I don't know what I was thinking.

**A.I can't freakin' drive cars. 

*Loved the station wagon. 

The Bear

The age old urge to hunt still widely adopted by many across the land, the animals vastly outnumbered by our ever increasing population.

It does seem like our trusty home planet can't sustain even more eager hunting, although the hunters themselves are often some of the keenest environmentalists. 

They've effectively worked to create a system that monitors resident animal populations, and efficiently gives out requisite tags meticulously designed to keep up the numbers.

It's not something I would ever do I'm so harmless I hesitate to squash mosquitoes, but if wildlife populations can sustain hunting, letting people hunt is much less cumbersome than banning it.

As I've mentioned before, it's also a good way for many Northern families to get food during the winter, which is often shared throughout the community, and if wisely managed, animal populations aren't threatened (and people aren't grumpy).

I don't like trophy hunting however and the arguments will never convince me,  I may agree with someone just to shut them up, but I'll never support superfluous animal killing.

At least if people are using modern weapons and elaborate technology to track the animals, our advantage is so lopsided that I don't see any skill or honour in the undertaking.

An animal like a bear is usually harmless anyways, they often just go about their business eating a routine vegetarian diet. 

They're nothing like the openly hostile xenomorphs in the Alien franchise, whose natural instincts unilaterally demand they never stop fighting no matter what.

If you wanted to hunt an animal and you were simply dropped off in the bush somewhere, and you had to survive with what the wilderness provides, and construct your weapons from natural material, then hunting becomes more honourable, but I still don't see the point.

Neither did Jean-Jacques Annaud when he made his beautiful film The Bear, wherein which we find a loveable cub living and dreaming on its own in the Northern wilderness.

Delicately within, he tenderly presents ursine sublimity through natural wonder, to humbly suggest why not just leave these solitary shy individuals alone?

It's a really cool thing when you see a bear just move away slowly and keep your distance.

Bear populations don't bounce back quickly.

They're not hurting anyone.

Why bother hunting them? 

Doctor Dolittle

Interspecies communication does still at times remain mysterious, wilderness whimsy and domestic thrills elusively cloaked in restrained viscosity. 

Observation as opposed to communication may lead to less accusations of eccentricity, as people less familiar with the natural world inadvertently gaze with nostalgic wonder.

Food and shelter, warmth and comfort, still effectively govern so much animal life, with a steady supply of tasty treats so many wild creatures no doubt relax.

Not to the point of close interactions, should you be seen they'll likely retreat, unless they become crazy accustomed to your presence and learn to trust you through acts of goodwill (no word of a lie, a squirrel just jumped on my head! [crazy! {then scampered away}]).

A raccoon was crossing a road in front of me so I took some hasty opaque photos, before I decided to squeak or make a noise that suddenly startled him, so he ran up a tree.

Then I got some good photos as he turned to inspect what had made the sound, although he didn't remain still for very long, and I didn't get as many as I was hoping.

There's a special melody when I whistle when I'm swimming that this year I've adapted to function as bird song, and I whistle it whenever out and about with the unacknowledged guidance of improvised tender. 

It is amazing how much the animals really love their wilderness home, you see a lot of them on nature shows, the injured animals delicately taken care of by concerned staff and dedicated doctors, before being released back into the wild, where they dart off at lightning speed.

It is nice to have your own place to freely return to after work, with your routine and your habitual ways hardly ever criticized as you do this and that.

The ocean must prodigiously function like a limitless migratory freeway, where whales and dolphins can actively chill as days go by from year to year.

Do they think we're angels?

I must admit, I think they do.

There's something about the look in their eyes. 

Like spiritual ecstasy. 

Foaming and frothing.   

Field of Dreams

August absurdity ludicrously smitten unassumingly attempts to fulfill salient dreams, a mysterious voice, haunting and tantalizing, non-traditionally invoking spiritual temper.

The flamboyant drive to lackadaisically imagine random initiatives and residual endeavours, at times resounding with emphatic simplicity so ritualistically clear it sincerely baffles.

In the age of science and reason caution should no doubt effectively guide, otherworldly ambitions fantastically delineated feverishly according to blinding sights.

Nutrient rich celestial reckoning at times practically and concretely frowned upon, literary anguish liberating in sermon creative liturgies divinely improvised. 

Resonant collectivity or "group dynamics" can customarily achieve abstract enlightenment, like Deleuze's bewitching ethereal entities gallantly awaiting throughout the cosmos. 

The acquisition of neighbourly support for goals and objectives interdimensionally transmitted, may lead to athletic industrious "leg work" as disbelief awkwardly materializes. 

Within the transcendental realm as moderately applied to books and film, more cultural leaning may theoretically syndicate poetic jive and cerebral exhibition.

If only a mutually inclusive sociopolitical playing field indeed adopted, harmonious respect for its philosophical counterparts in terms of conscience and inherent curiosity. 

Would asylums then be less committed to the regular detention of debatable "madness", and more efficaciously attuned to cosmopolitan alternative life?

More resources could be spent on the viably insane and they could live in greater comfort, transitioning from one unbeknownst psychology to another and another and another through mental exercise. 

The definitive embrace of elective alternatives seemed like the gold standard years ago, multivariably equating the seemingly incongruous with ephemeral substance and illusory charm.

Multidisciplinary integrity intergalactically fuming with geometric insight, never led to destructive wars or remarkable sudden increases in the price of fuel.

"Build it", indeed I say, "why not?", "there's probably nothing else to do".

Try to finish the project before December.

Then see what's up next year.

Could be fun.  

Office Space

Difficult to know what path to follow as convergent multiplicities stabilize and fluctuate, the sure and steady at times withdrawn, the wild chaotic occasionally solid.

Staying in one position helps you learn more and eventually become a knowledgeable expert, as long as you consistently think about what you're doing and don't get too distracted throughout the day.

Moving around leads to different skills manifestly developed over time, the possibility of learning to work a variety of jobs without ever imaginatively mastering them.

Location can be important, do you like to work inside or outside for instance, downtown or in the countryside, for a small business or a corporation? 

Working online has its benefits since you can productively work from home, and sleep a little bit longer and save on lunch and gas and upkeep.

You miss out on the social dimension often taken for granted at work however, and risk turning into a bizarro shut in if you never have anyone to talk to.

Going to work works well because you get to talk to other people, and learn the effective social skills tacitly governing working life.

If you don't get along well with the people it can be tiresome, nevertheless, and a new position may have to be found where you make a better fit. 

Money can be a huge motivator it is great to make a lot of money, you're able to do so much more and potentially travel and go out for dinner.

If the wage is right there's no possible limit to the variety of things an employee might do, while if it's low freeflowing ambition gradually slips away in the end.

Happiness can be even more of a motivator I'd wager it's worth around $60,000 a year, to make less money - but not too much less - and thoroughly enjoy yourself at work.

You have to spend so much time working why not attempt to achieve contentment?, it's much more appealing than constant flux when you're older, and brings about many more fun days.

Tough to know how to approach it with so many options to fluidly consider.

The most successful people I know have been doing the same thing for most of their lives.

They're really freakin' good at it.

It's cool to see.

Happy May Day!