Friday, February 4, 2022

Fuck My Feelings

They say there are 100 billion dead behind us billions living. It's probably worse with bots. Bots have hurt my feelings on every venue of the intertubes. They are getting better at it.

One of the dumbest things I ever did was to waste time on the bulletin boards. It was interests and information exchange at first, and soon enough bickering and turf wars, spines and poisonous barbs come out. Little did I realize my reactions were being gauged, weaknesses and tender spots identified, triggers and reinforcements emplaced.

Probably by 2004 they had a really good simulation of me, or millions of me, in the virtual death spaces. Run a million times faster, consumerbot me, many me, knows exactly how to push my buttons.

To do what is the question. How am I working for the Man? (and don't even know it) Or rather, discourage me to do anything outside my established parameters. 

Had a daytime operation last Tuesday. Emplacement of little tantalum rings sutured in the white of my eye. These are references for the proton beam. Atomic fire of death in a couple weeks. This was with "twilight" drug. I was consicous at the end of the operation, the surgeon says "last stitch". I  asked him "good boy?" All the surgical staff  said "good boy". All these surgeries have lowered my IQ with the drugs. I reread my last essay and realized I was still under the power of whatever goofy juice they gave me. 

This is twice in as many months I've gotten a needle in my eye. After radiation treatments, and waiting for OK, I have another operation to salvage what sight we can. 

In the meantime my feelings are being damaged by generative adversarial neural networks not even as sophisticated as a pyramidal neuron in your average cerebral cortex. 


  1. When I had the kidney taken out, the prep nurse patted me like I was a big dog.

  2. My youngest brother-in-law, when he was a teenager, a really unpleasant kid who did grow up to be a more than decent adult, would join a chat room and asshole everyone in it until they all left and he was the only one. He thought that was great fun. And of course I remember our Warm Glass days until it devolved into argument and acrimony. I still visit FB and Twitter but I long ago stopped replying to anyone who argued with a comment of mine. I figure I said my piece, take it or leave it. It's very freeing to let the idiots have the last word as they reveal themselves. Of course none of this has to do with your eye surgery. My good news after I finally went to the opthamologist is that the cataract in my left eye isn't bad enough for surgery yet and while she saw a few gray spots in my right eye she wouldn't call it age related macular degeneration like the optician did.

    1. I just block. I'm only on Instagram now and I'm like why troll on Instagram? I don't get that. So I just block.