Month: November 2016

concoquo is a latin word meaning something literal like cook together. it comes from cum+coquo. we get our english word cook from coquo, which could have either come directly through vulgar latin during the roman occupation of england or via a dialect of anglo-norman (french). the cum prefix gets assimilated to con- which gives us the form concoct we see today from the perfect passive participle concoctus. in a more metaphorical sense it means to consider well. 

i will not hope for the future. i will trust in the folly of men. let’s see what tricks the father of lies concocts. 

today i will work on a side contract. it’s not great money. it’s considerably less than what i get paid now, but i’m doing it basically for the good of humankind. i had to take a day off from my regular job to energize myself to do this. in general, i have very few problems with most mental tasks. in cases like this, i need to work on my low-energy discipline and my tenacity or my stick-to-it-iveness.   

this is not the antisocial network. this is the anti-social network. get the difference? this is the network — wait … stop. it’s not a network, see? it’s a node in a network. it happens to be my node. you can’t comment on it. you can’t email me. you can’t contact me. this is where my thoughts go. my thoughts go everywhere, by the way, and i’m not going to edit myself. there won’t be any pictures or piano playing cats to share. there will be no tags. there will be no categories. if i could get rid of the dates and publish in non-linear time i would. also, the fourth dimension isn’t time. also, there will be no links. google shit if you care.  you can’t like my posts. if it gets shared on one of those fucking social networks, i’ll never know about it because i’m on a complete news and social media blackout. my social network from this point forward will consist solely of real people in the real world. yes, i know, "reality" is subjective — except when it’s not. those humans, those solid, flesh and blood humans — my friends are the ones who are going to let me know when they come for me. i’ll have to find out through word of mouth that the gas chamber is being fired up to cook my ass. thanks america, thanks for the father of lies. he’s why we can’t have anything nice.