(Reposted from my deviantart journal)
Yesterday morning I was dreaming, something about a cross country race across England I was participating in. I was in some gigantic tank like vehicle crossing a body of water. I was looking over the side looking down at the other cars underwater racing across the lake or river bed when I started hearing someone calling my name over and over again. “Ron! Ron!! RON!!!” It sounded like my mother’s voice only my mother would have called me “Ronnie”, but I don’t suppose that matters. While in the tank I received word that some of the cars have been lost, disappeared in a fog patch somewhere. Anyway, someone kept saying my name over and over again with increasing desperation. It was obvious someone was trying to wake me up. I thought it might be important so I woke up. There was nobody here, nor was there anyone at the door or any kind of emergency going on so I don’t know what that was all about.
No, there wasn’t any kind of emergency, or anything else requiring my attention, nothing out of the ordinary at least. In fact, the entire day was disappointingly uneventful.
Last night I didn’t get very much sleep and woke up this morning after only a few hours. Evidently it rained a great deal as I was sleeping judging by the sound of the cars plowing through all the water in the street outside. It’s as humid as hell right now and there was some dipshit banging outside on the side of the building near my bedroom window with a hammer. Because of this I’ve since immigrated out to the living room where I am now typing this. Of course I can still hear the hammering only it’s not quite as intrusive and aggressive sounding as it was when I was closer to it, like how pain loses its urgency when felt through the narcotic haze of morphine.
I never feel like doing very much in warm, humid weather. I don’t like doing much in cold, biting weather either although it is bracing to go out taking care of business in such weather. Fortunately neither is terribly common out here, although we have been getting unusual amounts of rain for the past couple years so there has been more resultant humidity than usual. Not so bad if you can sit in front of a fan with a low setting.
For the past month or two traffic to this journal has dried up considerably. I just now finally decided to investigate this a bit and it seems it has been redirected to the Weed Wacker blog. I guess it makes sense they’d want to redirect traffic away from my journal to that goofy blog. There’s precious little substance there, it’s just a place where I occasionally post goofy shit for laughs. Well, maybe since that one’s become “the place to be” I should make that my new home instead of here, which seems to have been abandoned anyway. Besides, I’d like to leave my “Doom O’Clock” post on my front page here for as long as possible because I feel it contains very important information about this show that I think everyone who watches it should know. Not everything, of course, but the information is important enough that I like to bring it up frequently, but, to be honest, I’m getting real tired of writing it out over and over again all the time.
I hate it when supposed friends and relatives give me a hard time about stuff they see on this show, as if I have a choice here. I have to play this character, I’ve been forming it since the 70’s. What other choice do I have? Do you think I should just be myself? No fucking way. Show everybody my sensitive points, let them know how to annoy me and worse? I should let my enemies all over the world know my dreams and fears? Let them know my weaknesses that can be exploited and my strong points to be avoided? How fucking stupid do you think I am? What I look forward to more than anything else, aside from getting back some of what has been being stolen from me for the past 43 years is to be able to walk off this set, get out of this costume and finally be myself and live what’s left of my life. I have been literally living this part since I was ten. I deserve a fucking lifetime acting award, but I know I won’t get one. I’ll gladly take the money though, and there had better be a lot of it.
This character of mine, he’s living in a surveillance state, a police state, and he rebels by looking into forbidden subjects because he knows everything he does is being televised. Also, because he’s always on camera he doesn’t feel comfortable starting intimate or personal relationships with anyone so he’s isolated. Besides, he knows everyone has to lie to him so who can he really trust? Ironically, because everyone can always see him and everyone thinks they know him, or, rather, despite this, he feels isolated behind an invisible barrier. Because he’s so famous he feels no connection to his world. Everything seems fake and artificial to him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it makes life very interesting, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to try and participate. Instead he intellectually analyzes everything. He’s fascinated with figuring out what everything is about, he wants to know the causes, and when he finds them he wants to know what causes them, and on and on. He feels he’s in purgatory or limbo condemned to watch his life go by, drain away, waiting for his sentence to expire so he can at least live out the tail end of his life and do a lot of the things he feels he’s been prevented from doing for the past forty years.
It amazes me people have been watching this thing for years, my most intimate and private moments broadcast all over the world as public entertainment , and the only thing people think to do is criticise me for saying something they consider stupid or wacist, or if I spell “loser” wrong or something like that yet no one even seems to notice the lack of ethics and morality inherent in the very nature of this show. It’s symptomatic of a degenerate pathology in both the people making and broadcasting this show as well as the viewers of it. I probably have a coast to coast audience even when I take a shit. I don’t think they even bother to mosaic out anything. I know I used to get live running commentary on everything I was doing in my room back at the welfare building. I don’t know, maybe there’s a time delay for the cable broadcast and they have an opportunity to do some censoring, but to be honest that would seem out of character given everything else I know about this production and those behind it.
This whole celebrity experience has been decidedly unpleasant for me, the only positive thing about it is that I may possibly be payed. Not because they want to, mind you, not because they think it would be fair, but given the very public nature of how they have been violating me they may feel obligated too. If not for public opinion being strongly in favor of them compensating me for the ruin they have caused me I’ve no doubt they’d gladly weasel out of their obligations to me with a sparkling, crystal clear conscience. All I’m asking is that they give back a little of what they have been stealing from me. How can I make a cent off my work when they are using it to generate commerce for themselves? Since they put every damned thing I’ve ever done on their own website I don’t even get the dubious pleasure of views, let alone comments. I often wonder if that last part may not be intentional, part of the psychological war they have been waging against me to further bring down my self esteem.
Unlike the people that edit and promote this show I’m not a fucking hack. The more discerning among you may notice some contradictions in my posts. I am perfectly aware of them. This whole situation is schizophrenic. The people who originated this madness not only lack basic morality and ethics, but sanity as well. They are clearly insane and they have devoted over forty years trying to project their own idiocy down onto me. Wheels within wheels within wheels. A big attraction to this show is doubtlessly that I’m being fooled (made a fool of) because this whole thing is being kept a secret from me, but I guarantee that there are big things about this media project that you, the public, doesn’t know, so I’m not the only one being fooled. The media has been making fools of the public for well over 100 years.
No, I’m not a nitwit hack like Dana Brownfield and all the other imbeciles working on this stupid show. I’ve not been afraid to touch upon sensitive topics. Sure, from time to time I’ve allowed myself to become the parody they promote, mostly for the laughs, but, unless they’ve edited it out, I’ve also given people a glimpse of the actual nuts and bolts through the cracks in my performance and given the public a look at the decomposing faces of those who set out to degrade me through their media. I know they’ve always tried to focus on what they perceive of as my own insanity, but I hope I’ve succeeded with this journal to show how that’s just another symptom of their own dementia.
Anyway, like I said, since I want to leave that one post I mentioned on my first page I will start making posts on the Weed blog, and maybe just keep adding to this one on here as well. In fact I will also repost this one on that blog as well just to let everyone know what’s going on.