jpaulgorman

A new mental model.   Venezuela and its collapse. Squandered the wealth.   Creating a crypto revolt. Cash is the joker, cards are king.   Petro is a sham. The legacy of Hugo.   Social gangster, enduring eternal pain. Extortion of the miners.   Thuggery. This is official.   MIT is the epicenter. Watch your wallet, google is involved. Search, it all checks out. Speculation is all it is, for now.   Lightening network nodes are the future.

What is best for all, the dilemma, to truly sacrifice, to really trust.  It must be left better than if it was just left afloat.  Directed, encouraged, optimistically and , eloquently.  Genuine, without the unspeakable or taboo.  Set, evaluate, reward.  Over and over, both collectively and individually.  Blame the mirror, credit the window.  Recruit the players, continuously hone the strategies, and make it all payoff for all.  They did it.  Select wisely,  prune the dumb, selfish, and cynical. Confucius say:  we are dealers in hope. Always idling, they burn within.  No poking or proding, no stoking required.  We work within the intangible realm, leading by example.  Being ourselves, listening, letting them up easy. I say:  mercy me, mercy me, integrity is free. This is real right here.  We all see it clearly, the practice we put in, the effort, the words.  Read and written and talked and heard...

Like an apple pie. Carefully constructed. A solid crust. All the way up the sides. And over the top. Buttery, delicious, crunchy. It must hold the filling. The goodness within. Tasty, sweet fruit. Simmered and sugared. Why the pie is. Baked perfectly, to perfection. Cooled a bit. Announced alive and well. Set aside some whipped up cream. Near a coffee pot. Break out the china. But don't break it. The silver silverware. Everyone on their best behavior. Pride. Sharpest knife in the drawer. Cut just right. Piece by piece, each scrumptious. Gone, the slices of attractions. Eaten, the meetings of minds. Tasted, the delights. Anticipation no longer. Keep it around. It'll last for days. Preserved in tin foil.

The walking type. Ongoing and measured. Careful discussions. Transparent emotions. To give up too much is too much. We deserve primary treatment. Nothing being more important. To know and remember. Gypsys are never bored. They are the French Creole among us. When the oysters hit just right. And the pearls are found. Strung together, all in tune. Get ready for the chaos. It always arrives In caravans and wagon trains. Invading the west. Taking. After blessings have been discarded. Tossed aside. History has turned again. The karma involved. In the name of others. Justified by unforgivness. Ahead, more important discoveries. All we have to do is try. These things will occur, beyond dreams. Science non-fiction. People cured, happiness, comfort. Body, mind, and souls.

"You take that table over there.  No soul, no empathy.  It don't know you.  It don't know nothing!" "Ramble on my green-eyed son.  Feel the world worry and stress, understand why.  Reject all of it, create." "Plan for happiness, plan for fun.  But, leave everything unnailed.  Proximity will take over, theoretically." "Starve out the gluttony, eat at 2.  Taste each bite, mix it up on the fork.  Pass on the bread, it only takes up space." "The leftovers.  They bicker.  Snapping, shouting, directing, pointing.  Along those lines, avoidance." "Commonality of the mind and life.  Hope for better, action for improvement.  Cynics, walk away with your nostalgia." "Gratitude attitudes, we deserve nothing.  Either by accident or determined by another, we all populate together."

The immortals were all crying. No aging, but they could still be killed. It made them weak. Avoidance of danger, lack of courage. You only live once, until you never die. Boredom became an epidemic. Its destructive side effects. Recklessness, blues, grudges, poor choices. Unspiritual, becoming king and queen like. No compassion, they took shallow pity. Here's another cake. Other generations died off, one by one. The Boomers and their entitled politics. GenXers and their bird to to world. Millennials, screwed again. The Glowfacers were the charmed. Young enough to get the glowjuice. As the immortal medicine was called. They could live forever. Rather, they could age forever. Perpetual power, hoarded by the strong. Most immortals were weak. They were selfish. Eventually, the glowjuice was banned. The immortals in power stayed in power. Forever lonely. Forever hated. Forever bored. Like being locked in a train station. Stuck at an airport. Love is irre...

1.  Estimates Of Arrival Blasting south to Kingman, Arizona at 95 MPH, following a State Trooper, we felt unstoppable.  After waking early and packing, the valet brought out our car at 7:30 am.  Although we would lose two hours to Pacific time and Mountain time, it was worth it.  On the way over, the time gains made the hour long wait to see the Hoover Dam a wash and allowed an extra hour of walking Santa Fe like hobos.  Still, it was early, and we felt the radical idea of driving all the way home in one long drive was alive.  It was not practical, but perhaps it was possible.  The ride through the main Vegas strip didn't help the early departure, but again, it was worth it.  The decadence, the famous places, the tragic.  The Grand Canyon of Gambling and so much more.  We felt good about our choice to stay in the Fremont district 8 miles away, but we were glad to see 'The Strip", as its known.  Kingman was close.  From there...

Blurry for sure, but clear. Clearly understood. The future of our time. Of whatever we have left. Known by nobody, no one at all. My head, my knowledge, my expression. A reflection of my own making. The detail involved. Considered responses, hesitations. Intellect rejects emotions. Factors of unpredictability. The house wins in the end. Odds are reckless. But they must be played.

Blasting south to Kingman, Arizona at 95 mph, following a State Trooper, we felt unstoppable.  After waking early and packing, the valet brought out our car at 7:30 am.  Although we would lose two hours to Pacific time and Mountain time, it was worth it.  On the way up the time gains made the hour long wait to see the Hoover Dam a wash and allowed for an extra hour of walking Santa Fe like hobos.  Still, it was early, and we felt the radical idea of driving all the way home in one long drive was alive.  It was not practical, but perhaps it was possible.  The ride through the main Vegas strip didn't help the early departure, but again, it was worth it.  The decadence, the famous places, the tragic.  The Grand Canyon of Gambling and so much more.  We felt good about our choice to stay in the Fremont district 8 miles away, but we were glad to see 'The Strip", as its known.  Kingman was close.  From there, we would begin east.  My...

My daughter was bushed.  She slept in the luxurious Golden Nugget bed like I remembered her sleeping years ago.  Peaceful and happy.  Slipped out at at 7am for coffee and wandering.  Left the shades shut, the room dark.  She dreamed. Las Vegas in the early morning, when the daylight hits it.  Gamblers already gambling, some still gambling from the night before.  The depressing and annoying casino floor still smelled like cigarettes, the slothead faces were the same.  Workers already working the streets.  Everyone was up.  Dancers, even.  The palm leaf flower maker was still busy, his companion sitting on one bucket with face down on another bucket, sleeping.  The spray painter was painting.  Surely the fumes must have some effect.  He seemed calm, focused.  Clear-eyed, picking up cans and flipping them around like a black belt in something.  Eastern.  One painting was a wolf, howling in a dark blue, ...

The relatively short drive from the Grand Canyon to Las Vegas is very geological.  The topography maps must be wild.  No trees cover the land, only sparse brush.  The interstate moves smoothly, towns are seen from far away.  The quick exit to visit the the Hoover Dam turned into an hour long wait in our car to pass through a security checkpoint.  One at a time, featuring two aloof security officers demanding open windows and assessing the risk based on visual clues.  I kept my suggestion to improve the pace of the mile long line by opening additional checkpoints to myself once we finally arrived at the interrogation point.  Pointless.  We were judged to be good to go, unlikely to destroy the iconic and important structure.  "Only suitcases", one said to the other.  I had stashed my buck knife in the console.  Suckers! The hour gained as we crossed into the Pacific Time Zone was lost.  The Dam was fine.  We sped on to Ve...

The trip from Tusayan to the Grand Canyon was short.  Our Sunday visit was highly anticipated and our imaginations ran wild as we bundled up for a cool day.  Cool weather, cool views, everything was cool.  Tusayan seemed like a tourist town without the trashiness, full of locals that seemed genuinely happy we were there.  From the folks at the 7 Mile Motel to the barristas at RP's Stage Shop, we felt welcomed.  We got an early start and headed north for the final few miles.  We rolled up to the park entrance, $35 bucks in hand, well worth the per car entry fee.  The attendant greeted us, handing us a map and attractions card and said, "No fees today, have a fantastic visit."  Evidently, Veterans Day was free for all.  Another reason for thankfulness and gratitude to those who have served.  Thanks Vets!  We drove on. Queen was the agreed upon music for this scenic first.  The morning was bright, somehow the coolness making ev...

Hitchhiking is not dead in the west.  Several hitchers were seen on the wide open highways of New Mexico and Arizona, the familiar thumbs up as they walked along, headed to Califonia we figured.  We sped by all of them, primarily in the left lane of the interstate, where the pedal is put to the metal.  Surprisingly, two thumbs up to the vast majority of truckers out there in America.  The known ethic of letting speeders through the left lane is alive and well among them.  And we were speeders for sure. Turned up the tunes for the long drive to the Grand Canyon.  Cosmic Chimp, Bob Schneider, Miguel, and Supersuckers, among others.  Some Dude Named Amos' version  of Jive Talkin' was a highlight, the wails at the end shook the car.  New Mexican town after New Mexican town, til Arizona.  Along the way passing exits for The Meteor Crater, The Petrified Forest, and Winslow, Arizona.  Such fine sites to see, but we were headed to Flagst...

My daughter assured me when the gas gauge says zip, we still had 25 miles left in the tank.  I hoped she was right as we drove west to Roswell, NM from the Texas line.  No gas for 90 miles and the range indicator on her Toyota indicated 70 miles left.  We rode in on fumes, gased up, and were about to begin the northern journey to Santa Fe when we saw the International UFO Muesem.  We stopped.  The town has embraced its notoriety, begun when a flying saucer crashed near the place in 1947.  As the story goes, a massive U.S. government cover-up cleaned up the debris field, including massive amounts of a "memory metal".  The mueseum is dedicated to the truth of the incident and does a complete job of making the case.  The alien in the flying saucer, along with all evidence, was taken to Area 51 in Nevada.  All witnesses were silenced, paid-off, or came up missing.  Perhaps, but it could have been a weather balloon.  Either way, stores ...

The lobby of the Crystal Palace Motel in Brownfield, Texas was gleaming.  White with antique chandeliers, gold painted accents, and mirrors lining every wall.  The place had the feel of a pop up carnival maze, reflections everywhere, to confuse or mislead.  The $65 dollar a night price tag seemed reasonable, especially considering our mid evening prospects for lodging were dimming, as it will in far far west Texas after the sun sets.  My daughter was game, just the kind of place we had envisioned, off the main road, old and tidy.  The nearby Holiday Inn Express was never even discussed.  That would've amounted to complete failure, especially on our first night.  We were of one mind. Earlier, as we concieved, we left the great suburbs of Collin County with adventure in our eyes, important destinations to arrive at, and a spirit of wander.  To Las Vegas and back via the Grand Canyon and beyond Hoover Dam.  The sprawl gradually lost its grasp...

Once we get to actions, motivations, and execution, the egosystem loses to the ecosystem.  There should be a higher purpose to aspire, consisting of objectives understood completely.  Gender is gender, proportion is of secondary concern.  Identify as presented.  Go for behaviors, crave habits, appreciate style, keep the place light hearted, keep the profits rolling, keep the lips smiling.  For years and years. These statistics are old, they reflect old values, old insights, old ways of thinking and acting.  The transition of generations is a shining light.  Old biases, based on superficial differences, fostered by ignorance.  Defended by the ignorant.  And the stupid.  And business is no place for stupid.  Stupid goes under. Superstars can shoot to the moon, or opt out, or fail, but maybe not.  Some type of stereo break out, the effort is most important, the product will eventually and inevitably eventualize.  Rethink...

EmAmDD7x3 CG Don't owe too many too much. Tried to give away all my trust. Probably never make enough. Got what I need. Think I need more time to think. Maybe drive to the canyon's brink. Seems to me the peace that I seek. Waiting for me. CG DCGx2 No original thoughts, no understanding anymore, this world seems lost, this world is spinning out the door.  Open your minds, create the future wild, make your minds shine, decide the modern styles. We all got down at the get down. At the get down we all lost our frowns. Jump up and down and round and round. Til we was dizzy. Lock your eyes with the eyes of their minds. Try to find what makes em nice and kind. Realize the things that makes em write. And makes em crazy.

Maps have been made, the destinations, the stops, the days, the loose plan of the motels only road trip.  Ground rules discussed.  No farting near each other, easy frequent stops, side roads, back roads, discussion topics, at least 1000 miles of driving for each of us, tolerance of occasional bouts of silence, music responsibilities, trash food inevitabilities, all chill, and the like.  Canyons, sites, places, spots, with a Vegas twist in the middle.  Motels only, must be in name of the stationary, the match boxes, the neon.  Motels, baby!  That's the way we rolling.  8 days, 2700 miles, 5 places to call home for the night: 1.  Texas Panhandle, check out Caprock and Palo Duro.  Away from Amarillo, away from Lubbock.  Those places have been seen, they are known.  Those places been forgot.  None of that.  One night. 2.  Sweet Santa Fe, in the mountains, the Rockies.  Oldest continuous civic area in America, or...

Channeling some literary need. For understanding and completeness. So that it is done. And recorded. And saved. An opponent with nothing to lose. Everything being already lost. The game is on. Regardless. For fun. Music seems like math initially. Then the soul gets involved somehow. And it goes flying. Like the air. Unlimited. Visionaries line up and declare. Begin with the end in mind always. Make it a trip to remember. Veer west. Go.