Sunday, August 16, 2015

Up the Potomac River Chronicles: Serving a Life Sentence in Washington, D.C. (Part 2) -OR- What of the Poincaré Recurrence Time??

Jones Point, Alexandria, Va., overlooking the Potomac River toward National Harbor on the Maryland side, 4:02PM August 9, 2015.

This is at the location of the South Cornerstone of the original Federal Territory.

I already mentioned in this entry how disgusting is the Potomac River because of the severe nutrient overloading.

Some of the images in this entry are from my walk in Alexandria, Egypt Virginia last Sunday.

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Sunday early afternoon.

It is another gross August day in the Metro D.C. area with forecasted 90F+ heat and high humidity with blazing sunshine and no real chance for showers / t-storms. It is already 85F with a 69F dew point (that's high humidity) at the noon hour at KDCA making for a heat index of 89F already.

A large fountain near King Street Metro, Alexandria, Va., 3:04PM August 9, 2015.

I'm sure this fountain and the pedestrian promenade (see images below) where it is located have names but I just don't have the wherewithal or inclination to try to look them up right now.

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I don't know what to do today.

I went to the gym yesterday except I really didn't get in a complete workout with no weightlifting (just treadmill and pool), so I feel like I should go today. However, I plan to keep up a fairly dedicated routine this week (esp. as I am low on money and my gym nights are a lot cheaper than post-work bar visits) so maybe this isn't necessary.

A very D.C. young power couple, New Hampshire Ave and 20th St NW, Washington, D.C., 2:01PM August 9, 2015.

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I would take a bike ride (and still might do that) except (1) it is so frickin' sunny, hot, and humid; (2) my bicycle is so frickin' old that it is becoming difficult to use; and (3) my left wrist (or rather, upper ulna) still hurts when I make any curling action (as happens when one holds a bike handle bars) from my injury earlier this month, making bike riding problematic.

The forested Rock Creek Trail just south of Lake Needwood, Derwood, Md., 2:29PM July 26, 2015.

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The only other option is some dumb, by-myself walk, but those are sometimes ultimately boring and even depressing toward the end.

On the bright side, my annual trip to the Jersey shore (Wildwood and Cape May) with Gary and LP is now just under two weeks away. Having said that, it's still two frickin' weeks away -- and Wendy cannot go. Furthermore, it is only for 3 to 4 days and is over before it begins.

Then it is back to D.C. to continue serving this life sentence.

The lightly-roiled Atlantic ocean surf at the Jersey shore, Wildwood Crest, N.J., 1:20PM August 23, 2014.

This was taken on last year's trip to the Jersey shore.

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More generally, I deeply regret ever coming to Washington, D.C., the past 23 years have been for naught, and I just don't know how to get out of here because I simply do not have the money or wherewithal to leave here and start in a better place (of which there are really only a select number of spots that would also suit my "life style" of not having a car).


The only thing I like, ironically, is my job and most of the folks with whom I work.

I'm so goddamn stuck in Washington, D.C.: I hate this place and (most of) its people; I loathe the D.C. gay community in all its narcissistic, sorority girl pathological awfulness (presided over by a high priesthood of bartenders, gym trainers, and 1-percenter trust fund babies).

I live about two blocks north of that House of the Temple place that marks the northern point of the Triple Tau. It is officially called the Home of The Supreme Council, 33°, Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry, Southern Jurisdiction, Washington D.C., U.S.A. Phew.

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To be clear, I haven't actually done anything to help my fellow man human but why should that matter? The rest of the people in this shitty community do wherever the frig they want whenever they want and have the money to do it -- and get away with being as awful as they want to anybody.

Indeed, God the Invisible Cloud Being rewards them for being this way.

A pedestrian walkway not far from King Street Metro, Alexandria, Va., 1:05PM August 9, 2015.

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The same pedestrian walkway near King Street Metro, Alexandria, Va., 1:05PM August 9, 2015.

This is looking the opposite direction (toward the west).

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Where could I go? Well, I'd love to live in Auckland (New Zealand) for a while, or short of that, to start over in San Francisco, Seattle, Portland (Oregon or maybe even Maine), Chicago, or an appropriate coastal New England town.

Yes, Auckland.

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I was -- and to some extent still am -- keen on Canada, although its prime minister is doing an excellent job of screwing it up. Stephen Harper is like a cerebral version of George W. Bush -- and Canadians seem to love that. (As an aside, Canadians have always gotten away with doing a lot of crap to the rest of the world through their enriching resource-extractive conglomerates precisely because they are Canadians.)

Regardless and however, I'm not making any move any time soon.

Intersection of S. Henry and Duke Streets, Alexandria, Va., 3:23PM August 9, 2015.

I know a SHENRY and it's an awful thing.

Actually, I managed to get into this picture a jet on ascent from National Airport (it's tiny and sort of lost in the endless blue sky).

Oh, and as an aside -- see the pedestrian crosswalk countdown (it's on "13 (seconds)" in the image). Well, the first place I ever saw these crosswalk countdowns was in Alexandria probably about 12 years ago. I remember being weirded out by it at first -- but now a crosswalk without it seems uncivilized to me.

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The 400 block of S. Royal Street, Alexandria, Va., 3:35PM August 9, 2015.

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Rather, in all likelihood, for the next 10 to 15 years (assuming I'm even still around by then) there are few options and zero involving family, which consists of my mom living in a teeny-tiny place in an 50s-and-over community in suburban Maryland with Ray and my crazy father living in chaos and insanity in coastal north central Florida.

Approaching the biker / pedestrian tunnel in Windmill Hill Park, Alexandria, Va., 3:38PM August 9, 2015.

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Speaking of my father, while I wrote part of this entry, I was "on" the phone with my father. It was one of those times when he appears to call me inadvertently so that I can hear him talking (usually to crazy Shannon) but apparently with no idea that he has dialed my number. I actually think this is his way of talking to me since we really aren't talking at the present time.

Closer still to the biker / pedestrian tunnel in Windmill Hill Park, Alexandria, Va., 3:38PM August 9, 2015.

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On this particular occasion, I had my little flip open phone on speaker on my table and could hear random bits of conversation and extraneous noises. Occasionally, there was some explosive eruption between him and Shannon (whose voice sounds like a heavy-smoking old chicken with throat cancer), but mostly it is just aimless conversation in a Flagler County rung of Southern hell.

Inside the strange little tunnel that connects S. Royal Street to Windmill Hill Park, Alexandria, Va., 3:39PM August 9, 2015.

I had never actually been in this tunnel in all my seeming centuries in the D.C. area on all my sojourns across this area.

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It went on for just over 24 minutes until, I suppose, he "realized" it in his brain-fried-from-too-many-decades-of-substance-abuse way and hung up. Actually, I suspect he does this on purpose -- that is, make these "ghost" phone calls -- but I cannot be sure.

No matter the case, I'm a long, lost way from my New Jersey childhood when I lived with him and my paternal grandparents in Long Branch, visited my maternal grandmother on the weekends in South Amboy (and my mom, occasionally, in the summers in Belgium), back when I idolized him and he was my everything.


That world is gone, never to return, unless perhaps the Poincaré recurrence time of at least our Observable Universe has some validity.

As for this this little junk phone of mine, it has a bum charging port, and in order to charge the frickin' thing, I have to insert the little power cord (from a small battery pack plugged into the wall and that frequently "shuts" off and needs to be reset by hitting a small button on it) in such a way that it finally "connects" and then place the legs of one of my cheap wooden chairs on top it to -- but in such a way that it forces it to stay in.

The Potomac River looking toward the Maryland side from Alexandra, Va., 3:43PM August 9, 2015.

As I noted in this entry, these are nasty mats of floating green algae that foul the Potomac and are due to the severe nutrient overloading from all the pollutants including nitrates that wash off from the totality of the D.C. area. It makes the tidal Potomac a rather nasty river -- and the the Chesapeake Bay isn't much better. Neither have ever recovered and are probably about as bad as ever in terms of nutrient overloading. How so many people fish in it is beyond me.

Again, as for me, I'm an Atlantic Ocean person myself.

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People fishing under the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, Alexandria, Va., 3:56PM August 9, 2015.

How people can fish in this river given its condition is beyond me.

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Ultimately, I need a new phone. However, to be clear, I don't want a Smartphone. I don't need some goddamn artificial intelligence device in my pocket made in China with programming instructions from the American corporate media-entertainment complex's IT meta-department in such a way that ALL it does is pull down data and "apps" all day long, against my wishes but at charge to me:

A device designed for the human who is ALWAYS AND ONLY on social media at all times, every second of that horrifying existence another "dime in the pay phone" while Ernestine the Operator, or her early 21st Century equivalent, sneers, snarks, and chortles. Besides, I actually have one for work.

I just don't use it much.

What I do need is to get a frickin' credit card.

The Potomac River looking north toward Washington, D.C., just north of Old Town Alexandria, Va., 5:28PM August 9, 2015.

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It has been approximately 7 years and, for better or only worse in the hemi-demi-semi-paradise that is the Shining City of America on the Hill, you have to have at least one to build up your credit. Plus they do come in handly for those instances when you cannot live by some enforced-on-high balanced budget requirement because of the exigencies of life.

Marshy area along the Mount Vernon Trail, Alexandria, Va., 5:44PM August 9, 2015.

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This is true EVEN THOUGH the American credit card industry is the Ebola virus of commerce and debt: So hideously rapacious, it devours its host too quickly to be of any good even to itself in the long run.

As a concluding thought, I realize that to Wall-P, a.k.a., Pitty Shil, that little binary-bleeping robotic tool of the military-industrial-surveillance state via its communications complex legal department, these are alien concepts.

As a money-vacuuming and power-fawning stooge-bot of Oligarchy & Empire, its type is totally incapable of conceiving of a world in which easy millions amassed on an annual basis in the service of all that is wrong is the Ayn Randian most "ethical" and "moral."

"Eh. Eh. Eheheheh. This proves yet again the superiority of my asset-maximizing ways."

Ohhhh, shut-up Wall-P, you stooge-bot.

More importantly, how is your cultural finery??:

UFC pay-per-view human cockfighting, Velvet Elvis pictures (such whimsy!), Miller Lites and taquito surprise, and ginormous pieces of coral dynamited out of distant sunlit tropical seas for online purchase (with an app??) by gilded stooges of Western Christendom such as yourself that are the tools of the 0.01% ultra-rich.


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The old terminal of Reagan Washington National Airport, 6:22PM August 9, 2015.

The airport is technically in Arlington, Va..

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OK, that really is all for now.

Again, I have no idea what to do today. Probably just a pointless walk or bike ride on that old piece of junk bicycle.

B terminal, Reagan Washington National Airport, 6:31PM August 9, 2015.

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Sigh.

--Regulus

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