Journals of Lord Malinov

the poetry of madness

Zeroed

If there is any merit to the reincarnation concept, I must have been a Zero pilot during WW2 and present for the revolution in Russia.  There are emotional ripples in the dark sea attached to the memory of those moments.  Perhaps I was affected by those events during my pre-conscious youth.  There are just so many variables, any guess will do.

I have a growing desire to own a sniper's rifle.  The idea was enflamed when I learned more about Stalingrad yesterday.  The Russian youth had developed a passion for marksmanship, a skill we can assume evolved rapidly during the famines of the 30s.   Their snipers were heroes.

I'm not one for guns, generally.  I have several handguns - this being Texas and all - but little inclination to fire them.  Being able to hit a target with a lethal force from a distance of a mile is just too fascinating.  It would be a test of a steady hand, if nothing else.

I recall a young marine, describing the first time he had been personally fired upon.  "My first six rounds of return fire went straight into the dirt.  Then I  calmed enough to realize that my shots might be more effective if I aimed my weapon." 

Calm enough.  That is the question.

My recent discovery has proved . . . profoundly earth-shaking.  The initial trials are a complete success.  The implications are astounding.  I'm hoping that clinical trials will begin as early as Monday.  I have a million things to do and I'm loving every second.

I'll describe the trials in detail, once I have the necessary patents written and filed. 

In pursuit of a task, I discovered that my anxiety was a serious obstacle.  In searching for ways to work past my anxiety, I discovered a cure.

I've been off my meds all week.  I've never felt better.  My ADD is completely diminished.  My mind is firing on all cylinders, all day, all night, in stereo.

Anyone who intends to block my domination of this world had probably better start organizing now. 

Cats had foot surgery and so has been sitting on the couch for two weeks with nothing to do but be horny.  Meow.  The eX had cancer surgery in the past twenty-four, but I have no details other than she was alive at last report.  I'm done playing with the dope.  Operation "take back the kids and leave her to rot in her festering ickiness" is underway. 

As a rampaging robot on Lost in Space once put it, ever so succinctly,  "Crush.  Kill.  Destroy."

Metaphorically, anyway.  Legally, certainly.  I'm going to give that crude approximation of a person a lesson in the law.  Bbbbabbby, you just ain't seen nothing yet.

I've always been dumbfounded that she would dare take me on offensively.  She's seen my game.  Talk about adding insult to injury.

My heart is troubled by the dude.  He broke up my family and tried to take my kids away.  Well beyond the bounds of normal decency, to the point of relentlessly bullying my daughter to lie in court so that I would lose my share of joint custody.  Can I actually leave that measure of vengeance to the Lord, our Universe?  Only time can measure my wisdom.

So, today I will make preparations for the clinical trials.  I'll be charging my subjects $100 an hour.  If things go well, that price will soon soar.  What a country.

Freezing in Texas.  Get the fuck out of here.

M

posted by: Malinov at 08:02 | link | comments (1) |

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#1  11 February 2006 - 21:52

 

What? It's cold there?

solyluna

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