paradise

Hello, I am a 300-odd trillion year old lightbeing taking the form of a human, perpetually writing blogs since the mid 1990s.

Inquiry,

Type, glorious type

Read more...

I love Mark Stone.

Every time this 26 year old scores a goal, he pumps his entire 219 lbs through his fists and whoops with the force of his entire chest cavity (you can hear it bellow across The Fortress, 18,000 people away).

He celebrates EVERY goal is like its his FIRST goal, as though that first goal is scored on Dominik Hasek (who holds NHL goaltender record for highest saves and is otherwise legendary).

When Stone was first traded, his new teammates used to lean away from this bombastic display.

Now, he gives them fire. He gives all 18,000 people in The Fortress FIRE.

You can't buy excitement like that.

Well, Las Vegas bought excitement like that, to the tune of $76m/5 years.

So, you can buy excitement like that.

Excitement converts to inspiration, and inspiration converts to wonder. People pay a lot of money to sit stunned in wonder, inspiration, or excitement. These are all highly monetizable emotions.

This feels like the exact antidote for what I'm needing. Et tu?

——– Original message ——- From: Inquiry To: Paradise Subject: for the Jung at heart Date: Monday, December 18, 2017 08:13

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”

-C.G. Jung

I feel this broiling under my skin, eh, like my skin is pulled up like a too-hot sweatshirt and you inserted molten knife catheters into it, boy do I ever feel this quote.

— .:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..= :~:. published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyri= ghted by Zem at BeTheFuture. this is confidential communication. Protect= ed by US and International law.

From: Paradise To: Inquiry Subject: meanwhile, back in the land of not being at all surprised.. Date: Tuesday, April 16, 2019 13:52

On Thu, Apr 11, 2019, at 08:54, Typing Practice wrote:

Re: meanwhile, back in the land of not being at all surprised.. https://science.slashdot.org/story/19/04/10/238252/new-human-species-f= ound-in-philippines

Holy shit, what?

So my great 10^105 grandmother was Homo Luzonensis. I know one of my nea= r blood relatives is from the island of Luzon, though right now? I can't= remember who.

I dunno bud, this article surprises me.

I didn't think anything cool ever came out of The Philippines. EVER. Not= even Surf Ninjas.

Read more...

On Fri, Nov 17, 2017, at 09:31, Paradise wrote: To: Zat Rana Re: Welcome to the Community Hey Zat,

A question. (Which I'm guessing you've already written extensively about, in which case i should peruse your work first before asking.

ORRRRRRRRRR maybe if you can't respond, maybe you can pitch an article you read or wrote that summarises your thoughtspace on...

How do you avoid being overly critical?

I feel too much criticism/cynicism/been there done that snaps the mind trap hard closed.

But there's this whole world of enthusiastic helium balloon talking head people discovering or plagiarising old revolutionary ideas and amplifying them as new.

I've amassed an eclectic soupy brainbase of perceptions and factoids over the years.... I'm no Mensa, I'm not necessarily stupid either.... (or maybe I'm not stupid enough?)

Anyway,

How can one go on living in society without sounding like a stuffy turd, all “oh i knew that already,” or “ah yes the old trick”, etc etc. I feel that Kissy-missy-knowissy bullshit grates against my innate sense of wonder and play. Where does that knowitall shit come from? Is that ego?

I've also been getting annoyed at repetitive memetic speech patterns recently. Pretty much any memetic pattern really. I vent so LOUDLYANDPROBABLYANNOYINGLY when shopping anywhere because of the mediocre massconscious Muzak precipitating from the overhead bose i ball up in rage when I find myself absentmindedly tonguing Bowie/Mercury in the aisles... it's like... Dave and Fred are fine. Revolutionary geniuses. But noticing how fucking conditioned I am to autosinging? Wtf robot programmed my autopilot this way? Do I have a mind or am I a machine?

In closing, Its really nice to meet you. I'm looking so forward to your transmissions in my inbox. I love late night conversations with world class mindbent creatures, and by the sentencesmithery in your Medium, which is how I dropped in, I think you're one of the best ones.

Thank you for your newsletter offerings. I will study them over time and place

Adieu, Paradise

.:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..= :~:. published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyri= ghted by Zem at BeTheFuture. this is confidential communication. Protect= ed by US and International law.

When Your Friend is Good at Titles

Inquiry,

Hi pair of dice,

You learned me much o'er the span of three posts.

You're welcome.

Of course, my retention is already pulling an “inner Aunt Clara” (per Bewitched (which I of course expect you to know)). But life is busy, and it takes just a smidge of pollen to perpootuate a species, so I've much confidence all things will pull together for at least momentary good.

It is all stored there in ROM, for RAM to access at some point in the belligerent future.

Life's magick tricks have been seemingly losing their savor, of late. All this works so long as we don't know (more like remember) how. But sneaking suspicions lead to investigations and/or research, and eventually you find yourself staring into the mirror behind the curtain, blood pre-curdle, objects in photo of one's life slowly beginning to back-to-the-future fade to the actually quite vacuous sites of their repetitions in mind.

You're using the word “magick” wrong in this sequence. Lose the “k”, otherwise pull down some “real” real consequences from the REAL real world(s). Magic is for human trickery. Magick describes something else entirely... Not for the fainthearted. Lighthearted, dark hearted, but not fainthearted!

Yeah, maybe I'll start doing titles. I thought I botched one the other day.

You're good at titles, look:

  • Boys from the future
  • antennae altitude
  • what the buzz is all about
  • mind can't get enough of itselves
  • c'mon baby light my bunsen
  • The Volumizer
  • when saffron speaks, vneck listens
  • march sadness

And this was only in the span of a couple weeks.

Not only were they read, but 90+% response rate.

Copywriters would go briskets over this!

Dear Inquiry,

Titles seem like a good idea at first mental glance.

Right? Okay? Because the point of a title is to give the article in capsulized form. Let's see what we have today:

  • Secret Service Chief Out — Time
  • These are the Best (And Worst) Airlines Researchers Say — Time
  • Frenchman, 71, Attempts to Cross Atlantic Ocean — People
  • Yes, Life in the Fast Lane Kills You — Nautilus
  • How Much Should Expectation Drive Science — Nautilus
  • Hey Google, Sorry You Lost Your Online Ethics Review — So We Made One For You — MITTR
  • ....and soooo on....

But then I wonder about their prejudicing powers – especially in the direction of the rejection, i.e. “No point reading this because ”.

“Don't sell the steak, sell the sizzle” — Elmer Wheeler, sometime in the 1950s.

(What got me thinking about titles again wasn't any of that, though, but that I was starting to post with similar to same verbiage for a while there, and didn't want to find out the hard way the URL naming algorithm was going to be overwriting past posts because newer posts opened in ways leading to identical URLs.)

(Like it really matters if these get overwritten, right?)

You're overthinking, bud.

So my own personal title naming algo — and maybe this can be your own personal naming algo, I don't know — is I write my ditty first with its draft dummy working title. Currently the working title is “A Title By Any Other Name”. I don't really know the title until a piece is finished, because the nature of the piece will change a title a couple times, even after a piece is published and comments have skewed and sized it a bit more.

For personal pieces I'll pull a few of the weirdest purple elephants (to hock a Seth Godin term) out of the piece's text to give some “sizzle” to give the reader some context or “memory anchors”. A couple pieces ago I used Mae West and Violets, because in some paragraphs I used both words at least once. Words you use once are good anchors because they're outliers, they're words that are statistically used less than 3% in common parlance. (I made that number up. It's probably closer to .3%) They're also very sensory — the audience can picture them. Sensory words are hypnotic. As many sensory words as you can stuff into a sentence or a title are GOOD.

BAADDDD BAD BAD BIGGEDY BRRRR Baaaa baaa BLACK SHEEEP BAAAD words would be stuffs that an audience can't see/hear/feel/taste/see/hear/feel/taste. Because those are the conversations impossible to PERCEIVE. Therefore can't make visceral-ganglial CONNECTION in their gut-mind. You cringe, you win. “It” is a fantastic example. It is the worst example of a word, ever. And Ever. “It is the worst example of a word ever” is a fantastic example of the worst example of a sentence, because there are no sensory touchstones in this sentence. “It is the worst example of a word ever” is an amorphous, abstract, floating blob concept, hooked to nothing.... a plastic bag posing as a jellyfish floating in a softly lit ocean of numb thought... waiting for the right turtle to gulp it up and kill it slowly....

And this irks me to rename the article “It is the worst example of a word, ever”... but that would be crass.

Let's scissor the rest of this conversation back to where we were so we can snip it back into shape.

I see where you don't want to title anything because you don't want to give away too many free samples for fear of someone not wanting to pay for the Real Thang. But let's shake away from your Costco mentality where “grazing” is a sport and move to “flight” testing at wineries where samples are PAID. Titles are a curated taste and THAT's the mentality you should bring to your shit. Unless it's just one of those groggy ass days where you don't went to wear pants. Then don't title your shit.

#Neverlookbackspace

Dear [Inquiry](https://inquiry.writeas.com},

On Sun, Apr 7, 2019, at 18:47, Typing Practice wrote: > https://write.as/inquiry/sounds-like-some-serious-ticket-reduction-paradise-writeas-com-ahhhhhhhhh > > Or have these become necessary 'cuz you'll be checking the other place? >

You know what's fun?

I've switched up some of the settings in my email and computer to better accommodate Write.as ramblings.

This includes.

  • Switching to fully plain text, so I can better see Markdown fixes, especially in replies. This gives me more control where replies go, and less editing time in Write.as. Knock on veneered melamine.
  • Adding your name/link to my TextExpander snippets. Typing “inqq” fully expands your name into link form so I can namedrop with full link abandon. Textexpander rules.

I'd show you some of my fave shortcuts snippets, but not in public, as I don't want to dox myself.

Ooh, but I can show you some of my fav date stamps!

Here's my short date stamp: 8/04/19 Mon 1413

And long: Mon 08 April 2019, 14:14:02 PST

I picked up a song of a deal on Ubiquinol yesterday and will pad out my Amazon store soon, I hope.

Discovering secret sources of cash flow.

Knocking on veneered melamine.

Now... if... only someone would bring me a cup of tea. =;^.^;=

— .:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:. published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyrighted by Zem at BeTheFuture. this is confidential communication. Protected by US and International law.

This is prob necessary for now because I'm still working out my habitude. I'm feroicously much more habituated to dumping out my heart and soul into this here fastmail box than I am yet to pour a cuppa into the Paradise blank page yet. It's just a matter of preference AFAIK. 

Hey, maybe you can drop these links prepackaged as (what's their name)[http://alreadylikes'em.com].

I think I'm going to tinker with having email updates drag mentions of yours to my inbox

because the idea is just to jock replies as much as possible from command central AKA fastmail

but JEEEEEZZZ if I REALLY have to move over to Write.as I guess I have to. 

I mean, I have bookmarks in my toolbar to both already, so it's not like it's THAT hard, c'mon, pleeeeez. It's really just a visual preference creature comfort thang. a lived-in environment vs a hotel room thang. paradise doesn't have a hundred folders on the sidelines with useless numbers shouting at me, demarcating hundreds of undone doables, silently reminding me how important i am to somebody-somewhere. I reckon that means a tick to my mind. does it? mmmm.... my mind's a forest. and omg, it's found somethign new! OR something new's found me. Or something old's found me. Either way, the thought is tantalizing. 

I can't believe I sent my hockey stick to my MAILBOX and not my house. 

WAS this my cruel way of getting me to do my work first and play second? So I'd have to pack up my DHL offerings and take them to DHL at the mail drop in order to pick up the stick? That is so totally what happened here. I see what you did here, zem. I see you. I see your plan. You didn't see it, but I did. Nice play there, you work-indulgent bitch. Or maybe it was a mistake and I have no grand plans to dole out Skinnerian rewards for good Mondayrian deeds done. Le shrug! 

Woke up at 8a yesterday and volleyed all day long until like 1 or 2a. relentless. 50 tickets down or something like that handled in the midst of a dozen other mommy items. I broke the 100 mark. It lis ike a cruise down a long desolate highway. I'm sure I'm back up to 200s by now, but breaching 100 was welcome for that moment I hit it. Maybe I'll tape 150 today, but it's unlikely since it's monday and life's usually a blur on Mondaze.

Watched this confusing and utterly boring drooler of a kids movie called Fantastic Beasts Crimes of Boringwald or something like that, and I was so completely emotionally divested, as were my littles, that even my YOUNGEST walked out. When a 7 year old walks out of a children's film maybe the formula needs to change. While the set design, CG and costume design was as sumptuous as lava cake, it was as necessary as lava cake on a hot volcanic day —— and I really don't like lava cake anyway. Really, I don't like dessert anyway. 

Enough blabbing from me. My shower is finally warm. I think. It's time for me to whip this day into a tasmanian frenzy. I should never wonder if I should publish these things or not, while I find my footing in this environment. I should always just publish first and ask questions [of myself] later. I've always been so quick to furl up like a touched violet whenever a stranger consciousness notices me and I haven't yet had my cup of vi-TEA-mins to assess my personal threat levels............I pack up like a circus tent who knows their jig is up and the midwest city is wasted..........but...........today?

Paradise carries on! Thanks for having me. 

.:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:.

published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyrighted by   Zem at BeTheFuture . this is confidential communication. Protected by US and International law.

On Sun, Apr 7, 2019, at 18:47, Typing Practice wrote:

https://write.as/inquiry/sounds-like-some-serious-ticket-reduction-paradise-writeas-com-ahhhhhhhhh

Or have these become necessary 'cuz you'll be checking the other place?

Date: Friday, March 29, 2019 11:52

Hey, 

Sounds like a rad day! 

Some housekeeping: Can you quit replying to [redacted]? Its screwing with my folder. I don't know why it's doing what it's doing, but on my end it's quadrilateral annoying. 

Anyway, this is a really sweet letter. Totally jazzed. 

Chemistry's still a bit left of center – it's what happens when you take too many psych pills too close together and the body kablooeys in response. I'm trying to keep it sane, I really am, but I've got a vein of self-loathing growing underneath my skin that feels like it's never gonna get mined out.... this biochemical depression (or depggression) thing a thang hurts, just hurts. Like, oy. I've grappled with a smidge of suicidal thought lately and since I've been practicing radical honesty as of late, I hvbe to disclose such tendencies.... and it's just.... 

it's just a shitshow in my mind when the appropriate pills and chemical adjuvants aren't applied. 

I'm such a fussy gas tank, my dude. 

Ah, but let me sidestep that a bit and go awlk to my samsung camera (which I love) to hustle up this quick selfie I shot with rocket (who I love). 

on

e moment....

lol you know what didn't work? 

USB Samsung transfer. 

The rivalry is REAL. 

So what I did is the more punk rock way of handling things, which is take a picture of a picture. 

It's more REAL that way anyway. Then you see the image through the screen of the samsung, itself a beaten up Amazing Thing. On day I'll get her screen replaced and she won't have to be held together by a rubberband. 

We are all just holding the fuck together by rubberbands!

My pinky especially. I try and try and try to hit Shift with my left pinky but I just can't fuckin' hack it. Type rates plunge to the mid thirties. I can't left shift if i tried. the thing they say about habits is also real. Mavis Beacon taught me ASDF are left home keys, but psychoheuristicrealism conditions my lefty home keys to WERF. 

Haha. 

WERF. or WERG depending. 

JKL'.

And thi sis how I hit those speeds of mellifluous thought, I think. By edging up on a keyboard like a kid oabut to relay edges up on the tarmac. You can tell how I typo. I have fast ring fingers. 

Whatever. What are we talking about? always goes back to some thing about mechanics. 

I throw so many hours down this hole

omg what 

this reminds .me 

me. 

ha typos. 

this reminds me that I want to call my constituents/customers/audience and queries them for their preferences on one of our recent products. That's amazing. 

I'm hypomanic, I just remembered. I'm hypomanic and depending on the minute, depressed. I have to keep myself actively engaged on a project of some sort (FUCK YES FRIDAY, after all) instead of checking myself in mirrors or GOD FORBID checking my iMessages for notes from boys or friends. Mostly boys. I'm stuck stupid on this one kid and I wish I could just scalpel him hte fuck out of my mind for the rest of my life, ebcause he's really an idiot and not worth my time. Im not talking about you right now by the way, I'm talking about [redacted]. 

In other news, I'm mommying the fuck up altely nad creating Instant Pot sparkles worthy of some sort of regional Instant Pot cookout. My rice OR tapioca pudding game is highly on point and I also

— 

Can I stay awake any longer? 

.:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:.

Words, Ideas, Magic(k) ©   Zem at BeTheFuture . Confidential communication. Protected by US & International law.

On Fri, Mar 29, 2019, at 10:58, Typing Practice wrote:

Zemma,

What a day!

We all received email from the CEO saying we should take the four afternoon hours to write thanks/appreciation email to two or three people in the organization we felt most deserved it. How's that for a place to work?

And it gets even better. Coworker Jen suddenly burst into my chat to let me in on the fact that what that really meant was “thank a couple/three people, then take the rest of the day off”... and there I was, honestly going to put four hours into three thank you notes.... :–)

I mean, is that the essence of fucking vneck, or what?

Anyway, yeah, I feel a little guilty for attempting to tie up so much of your time/life. But I've gotta tell you, dude, I'm less able to refrain from wanting to communicate with you than I am from common biological lust even when the curves and angles and motions and sounds seem to be pleading-ordering-screaming out for maximum seed. I'm not even exactly sure why. I'll have to spent some time theorizing sometime, and send you the report. Not that you have time for it, of course.

Shit, man, and the timing of this afternoon off couldn't be better. Not only am I off all next week, but [redacted] went out to breakfast with someone, and then went straight to her hometown to spend the afternoon with a daughter and the grandchildren (culminating in seeing “Dumbo”, I believe).

I picked a fuck of a time to stop drinking, goddamnit............