Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Where's Robot Santa?

How was your Christmas? Mine was very much up-and-down, which is part of why I took so long to update this thing.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Still Waiting for News

Looks like I won't know if I've passed my background check — the first of the eligibility hoops for me to jump through so that I may return to living indoors — until Monday at the soonest; the Fountain Place building manager is out until then, receiving training according to the maintenance man. I'm pretty confident nothing will come up that will prevent me from being approved, since I have no felonies or even recent gross misdemeanors, have no evictions, and even though my credit is lousy I don't have a legion of collectors after me. I just wanted the next phase of the process to at least be underway before the arrival of Christmas and the inevitable closures and days taken off that come with it and the week following. Anyway, I was going to wait to post until I heard some good news, but I'm not going to skip what's been a somewhat eventful week.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Housing Jerk Around

I received a letter in the mail at TPI yesterday that informed me that I'd been removed from the Fountain Place subsidized housing unit wait list, so after grabbing some stuff shipped to me by a friend (a rain poncho, a second pair of long johns, and a pair of military wool fingerless gloves!) I headed immediately over to find out what the deal was; remember, I was just there a week ago checking in on my wait list status! Not only was I reassured that the letter was something I could completely disregard, he went so far as to say that he'd be able to tell me today how much farther up the wait list recent notices given have propelled me — implying rather strongly that a one-bedroom subsidized unit will be available for me. Which I took to be good news, because I'm sick and tired of living on the streets, now that everyone from all over the country is moving to Portland diminishing our local charities and importing their barbarism and madness and criminality.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Interview with Father Dan

The following is a short interview with Father Dan, a man who evenings Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays feeds people living on the streets in Northwest Portland beneath the I-405 freeway and in the industrial area, along with his son John. He also hands out socks, blankets, and other necessities and comforts whenever he has them. While until recently I've only sporadically partaken in his dinners — which range from pizza and Jack in the Box chicken sandwiches to home-made soup and the coveted last-Friday fried chicken — I've always been impressed with his hands-on personal dedication to helping the poor and the homeless; a far cry from the impersonal institutional approach offered by most charities and social services. I was pleased when he agreed to answer some questions, which I typed out and gave him to answer at his leisure, busy man that he is.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Cusp of Hatred

Once upon a time there was a boy whose heart was a churning cauldron of viscous black smoke, who was filled to overflowing with self-loathing and whose eyes cast a baleful gaze imbued with arrogance, prejudice, and hostility out onto the world around him. Early on in life the neglect and abuse he endured taught him that he was discarded refuse, that people were either threats to avoid or (at best fickle) resources to exploit, and that life was ultimately a Darwinian hamster wheel driven by entropy. Jesus and the Buddha were frauds buttressed like cardboard stage props by apex social predators and deluded fools wearing blinders the size of traffic signs. As this boy entered adolescence he fell so deep into the well of his fire-ringed despair he went mad, spending much of two years in psychiatric wards daydreaming about incest and rape, walls of steel encircling an ocean of human squalor and suffering, screaming lunatics wielding weapons stolen from gods, and nightmare legions trampling the beauty of the world under scorched feet.