Friday, August 13, 2021

Apparently, the LACDMH is founded upon a psychiatric approach, rather than psychology.

For most people, I would assume, psychiatric practice and the sorts of jobs involved are a cultural and societal obscurity, whereas the premise is largely well-understood. 

Whereas, for the more vast expanse of what children who learn, in public schools, come to acknowledge, and attain, in life, is psychology; we have these sorts of figures and roles laid out for us, in particular, of our generation, being that we had popular music, largely accessible to us; and that common romance notions played out on that medium, as well as on screens, and in theaters. There was some notable opposition to this movement of popularity, and a disavowal of achievement's merit, in that accord, yet many of us simply ignored it, and others had roles cast wittingly, in society's traffic lanes, and by-ways, and such - so that we were given a certain course of treatment, which inevitably drove away from our primary influences, given to us (conceivably) by our parents. 

Obviously, I was raised a boy, and a Christian upbringing, that I had, at that. My large assumption was that boys disliked girls, as a young child; my learning environment and peers largely supported those ends, whereas the outcome result of the darker side of what became of our innocence, was that boys disliked girls, and vice versa, and male upon male neglect was a characteristic feature, for the common and middle class; a third of girls had, or would, experience sexual abuses, of some nature, prior to their coming in to adulthood, and many things would remain veiled, for a small minority of us, from 1-4%, or so, the statistics say, and the more prolific ones, who would come to understand things, at an earlier age, we're not largely well-touted, and learned about, given the subjects' dark nature, and for the innocence that it would harm, of what values American culture had stood for, and which had been upheld, in our schools, from our early years onwards. 

Some thoughts exist, in between me squashing a parasitic arachnid thing; a white one, but I couldn't nab it on camera, because the outgoing scout ones, skittering their way around, unbeknownst to us, to a large degree... (some stuff... thoughts and such), yet I catch them, fairly much as much as I see them, and I'm not ridden with a current case of Lyme Disease, despite being a literal homeless person, going on the third day, on this day, and I happen to look rosy cheeked, and a man (even - ooo 🙄) had remarked as that I couldn't look any better. 

Some stuff? It could have been acknowledged, and it can, but I just doo doo'd: the story. Why it could what's huh? 

to continue. 

I dunno. I was just given a prompt, based on fwomped, which ostensibly organically means that somebody stepped on doo-doo, meaning that; well, people had done that, at some point in life, most conceivably, yet now the discussion had come to slight alterations of beyond bwopp - the fwopp'ted. 

Me, I'm like, nah, that's not what's going on? What? 

And people fail to remember, by that point. That's the large existential basis, of the ongoing by and large, of things. 

My dress code? It's just garbage, and I happen to look like I'm picking through it, and stuff, but it's going to get dirty, my clothes and stuff, but I'm a bum; in general. People would understand. No one would care that a bum's dirty, for the most part, and it's just dirt dirty, not like, umm... okay. Talk? 

It's kind of like that, though - dirty. In general, though, people don't speak to sustain themselves, why do it? I'd say, in mostly Nike gear, but I'd already detailed it, on Twitter, and it didn't look that good, from that angle. Here, "it," is me. Was, perhaps, depending on how the mind fit that one in, if you're happening to read this. But why? 


Nah, it wasn't like that. No one was doing anything, some bum, digging through the garbage, wearing Nike stuff, but the red sweater? The chintzy one? During the midsummer's heat? It goes pretty well, and stuff. 

Somehow, someone reads through this, beyond the title, and I ended up writing it, but an article's got to have a photo for it...

Bug squash.

Saturday, June 26, 2021

For seeking, ye shall find, as the saying goes.

 Treasure hunting bum: the persona, faces a rough and isolated trask, for pigeon-pecking hunting bits about the sidewalk, nooks, and gutters.

Sunday, January 31, 2021

Detracting from distractions for mental health in nuclear magnetic resonance.

Clean up the messes of our nuclear age, in acknowledging merit.

 Aesthetics are an important facet of our global culture, dating back to ancient empires in our Western culture. Tending to communities takes work of a rigorous discipline, in nature. It is caring for our nature-based ecology. Within our lifetimes, around the turn of the millennium (here, 2021 A.D., there is war being fought over pain and abuses, for the sake of pursuing pleasures which could otherwise be wrought out of simple intelligent, considerate, and measured paces in conversation. 


Please help keep the community clean and safe from unnecessary distractions by cleaning up, in small and humble ways. Disorders are established and enabled through deliberate and shortsighted whims, and thoughtless intentions wrought out of self-serving weakness.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

As coronavirus brings the pandemic socioeconomic ecology to light, the Employment Development Department provides satiety.

 I can stop sideways-glancing and curious treasure-hunting pigeon-seeking for novel discarded valuables, such as an iPad Pro, which had been stolen from me, from up under my backpack-as-headrest, upon finding a resting place for a much needed escape from perceived stalkers of my person and belongings. These sorts are both criminal and sexually depraved, as they come out, engage, and victimize under the fall of night and early morning. The pandemic’s shelter in place ordinances are vital reminders to us of the dangers inherent in casual passing encounters as to acknowledge that some individuals are in need of services, whereas they target the common civilian for their needed or coveted materials wants and gains. 



Friday, September 18, 2020

A look at a compelling slight act of nature in the age of climate change: a photographic allegory.

As I’ve been collecting raw materials and chemicals for research and discovery projects (here, I’m working on an offshoot development project involving a natural products hair pomade), I’ve come across a micro-environment climate change visual allegory. I find the heating and cooling effect that occurred here, in this container of pure Shea butter, to be beautiful and mysterious.



Sunday, August 16, 2020

I rinsed off, after a few days out, or so, and a kind man had his leftover pizza sent to me, after I ate out of the trash. All of a sudden, a micro-squirrel shows up on my thigh. (photoblog).

 People who get hung out to dry on my stories that develop of my days, recently, might have witnessed the unexpectedly pop magic squirrel, out of nowhere, showing up for a mischievous and novel buddy moment, to much appreciation. 


Here, as I rinsed off, and prepare for becoming tired, and perhaps that I could procure a place to rest well for the night, while being called out, for appearances sake, I suppose that tonight is the night to not fail and fall short of people's expectations of perhaps that some of the revelers of the evening would witness the squirrel toy thing that I employ as part of my public relations model. 


Here's the latest squirrel allegory; in this case, a significantly floret micro-squirrel, seated on my thigh, for a reminder of on squirrel showing up thing.


Saturday, August 15, 2020

The zsh shell scrum of coming to build wn (WordNet 3.0) by Princeton on my machine.

 Amongst various other things, including setting up my Google Coral USB Accelerator Edge TPU device, and installing MacPorts (which might simply just not work, quite yet, given so many errors - I've had more consistent luck in installing Unix packages using Homebrew), I've gotten back in to the flow of performing SysAdmin tasks on the macOS terminal, which is the powerhouse Command Line Interface terminal app based on the Bourne Again Shell, [apparently] now using zsh, instead of sh, as the central bash terminal (I've got to look into this new development; I'm not quite up on it, at the moment).

But, I did get (wn) WordNet 3.0 installed on to my computer, as I plan to reference it in replete form, in a future GTD development and production task, of perhaps a web app or published Google Play and App Store offering, for the basis of offering a casual inference scrum of psychological aberrance and intelligence determination to shoo away malingerers of the remote observation scram butthole sociopathic narcissist and borderline personality disorder developments-games-playing sort, as I find that they do playful and inquisitive things; true, yet I find that they also have a common core issue of disclosure in honesty in a well-enough replete and timely manner, and it (conceivably) takes up remote observation law enforcement hours, whereas a dum-dum tool would quickly and systematically derive modeled, statistics and time-honored (and ordained) numbers and perhaps colloquial psychological inferences and Freudian Slips, even, of a deep-digging scrum of inference basis, that is only momentarily funny - and after all, these guys (since it's commonly largely guys doing this to me) sometimes "act out." 

All in all, this could be just one of several developmental toolkit product aspiration projects that I'll work at, over the coming months and years, and the ostensible goal is to demonstrate, stimulate, and inspire, through viable intelligence development efforts within the problem area demographics of which I have both experience and concurrency in, for a decades' long history, to date, and for years to come, in to the foreseeable future. 

Here's the dump of my bash command line history, in case people would like to scrum through it and marvel over the intricacies and raw compute visualizations that the Terminal app, in a Unix platform, such as macOS, provide - of the power wielded by the user (SysAdmin), when good form, in a bash Command Line Interface, is procured, through rediscovering the fundamentals and essentials of bash terminal scripting. It's a common hopeless trawl, through numerous failures, at times, but I've come across reputable sources and project foundries, well enough, to get me back in to the swing of command line interface scripting and Unix SysAdmin development tasks - this command line history is the ostensible story of what's been in the works of my compute scrum bwitsies parlance, since four days ago, at this point (it seems like it had been going on for so long...).