Next Bears game prediction.

I call the game tonight will end with a Bears loss.

Next game: an 80 percent chance of a win.

Evidence Beltemacchi is not my central opponent.

After Tweeting that I heard a voice telling me my Tweets help the Bears a run of bad luck hit the Bears and the Packers scored a second TD.

Evidently the person who principally opposes me is not a Chicagoan, which rules out Beltemacchi, though he might be an opponent none the less.

Peter Beltemacchi: how good a Bears fan?

I challenge Peter Beltemacchi to a test of nerves: which of us can call the game tonight between the Bears and the Packers first.

As you may know, I have stated I consider Mr. Beltemacchi to be a possible initiator of a blackball against me for not sustaining him in illegal acts in a hypothetical business deal, he the owner of an architecture firm in Chicago and me his, hypothetical, employee.

Approval of a media trend.

There is in the national media in the United States a not so well known trend between celebrities of all degrees to take the time and care to express to each other a moment of real support for one another, ususally by taking a little longer than is normal in such circumstances to hug one another upon being introduced or otherwise brought together. This is a different trend than those we see customarily, at least in any age with which I am familiar. It is a good trend, moreso than most, and will certainly have a good effect on a particular set of people who find themselves, though they may not know it, on any of a large number of precipices of the nature of a personal challenge, whereon much depends in the manner of deeper sharing of emotional bonds with those who share the same stage where these challenges are made, lost, or won. And as examples, people in the limelight, where I have observed this trend, will tend to be moreso than most, or that is what we are led to believe, anyway, by the media.

I look forward to seeing other signs of true caring everywhere I go.

And let us not forget that we are part of a larger conversation between all living species, and have a great privilege to keep a large space under our stewardship in a world of shortages, and need to know more about the illusion which this stewardship actually is.

Sunni and Shiite

I am very pleased with the degree to which Sunni and Shiites in Iraq have managed to lessen the extent of their animosity since the start of the military presence of the U.S. there in 2003. I admit that this is in some measure a matter of faith in the peace despite outbreaks of violence. It is in that also a matter of faith in the ability of the Iraqi government to act as government and sustain a national identity. My personal observation is that this has in fact happened, and that despite this there is an awareness that much needs to be done, for divisions in Islam have been the rule not the exception ever since the life of Muhammad.

Bomb detection in Iraq.

Ted Koppel says that device they use in Iraq to detect bombs doesn't work.

Human scientists say that bees can't fly, and yet they see them do so, like you and I see them do.

Endorsement of Barack Obama for President in 2012.

After reviewing the Republican candidates for president, I have decided for myself that Barack Obama is the best candidate and I heartily encourage others to examine his record and behavior, think on the demands of the office, and I have great trust that for those of good sense and sound judgment Mr. Obama will be the candidate of choice.

No need to hold gays in comtempt.

Before my episode trying to become transgender I seemed to be faced with a lot of opinions that I was gay. This was a mistaken notion and seems to have occurred because I wasn't expressing my desire to transgender and the fact that I was keeping locked up some odious state of mind involving my sexuality came across as being a closet gay. I hope the episode becoming transgender has straightened this matter out to some extent. There remains the fact that I really would prefer being female but cannot do it for medical reasons, and this fact may get some play by some as a continuing state of mind. I do experience lingering effects of having been set on being a female with heterosexual desires. I am working to set those aside.

The point here is that there is no reason for me to castigate gays anymore, insofar as the actual situation is appreciated by others. I castigated gays because it was the only way I could think of to distance myself from that state of mind, faced with overwhelming insinuations I was gay. I hope now the record will reflect the facts. If it does so I can safely accord all due respect to gays for their preferences.

Aborted transition to transgender female.

It turned out that estrogen therapy would increase the danger of blood clotting and since I am already at risk for clotting and take Warfarin for it, I decided not to pursue the gender change. The key factor is that without a doctor's approval for hormone therapy the State of Illinois does not permit a change of gender marker in one's state identity cards. This was an unacceptable situation for me, so I decided to give up wearing women's clothes. It was a major disappointment.

Why I think I live alone.

I think that being of female mind under it all while having to live as a male mind, is the reason I have wound up isolated from others.

It's pretty simple.

First hoop passed in change of my gender to female.

Tuesday was my appointment at the Howard Brown Health Center, a medical facility that specializes in transgender cases. The doctor's name was Alfred Torrence. He did a complete medical interview intended to determine if at this juncture I am suitable and medically ready to enter the passage to becoming a female. He said they never do a psychiatric evaluation because they do not consider the transgender person to have a sexual disorder. He simply asked me why I wanted to become a female and I gave him a pretty straight answer.

My taking Warfarin is an issue as hormone treatments will increase my blood's tendency to clot. I take Warfarin because my other doctors believe a clot caused my necrotic bowel of 2008. Dr. Torrence asked me if there was any positive proof that I had had a clot and I said no. This could be a game stopper.

Another possible issue is my liver, as it needs to be able to take some stress, for want of a better term me being a layman, caused by the hormones.

If these and all other issues turn out not to be game stoppers then Dr. Torrence will approve me for hormone therapy. This done, I will be given a lot of paperwork for changing my name and gender marker on some of the more important personal documents, these apparently not including my birth certificate as Illinois is said to give transgender folk a problem with it, One document the doctor mentioned was called a "safe passage". It guarantees to anyone concerned that I am legally able to use female public facilities, such as rest rooms. It was significant to me that all this paperwork can be prepared and completed immediately upon my approval for hormone treatment, rather than having to wait for some amount of time to pass for the hormones to start to take effect.

So the next step was blood tests and today I went in and gave blood for them. But at the end of the interview with Dr. Torrence he shook my hand and said I had passed the first hoop on the way to becoming a female.

Hard to say at this point what the odds are I will pass through the rest of the hoops.  No hormones would be a major disappointment, but even if that happens there's no going back to behaving like a boy. We'll see if my body is going to cooperate by getting itself approved for the next step.

There is one possible way to get some recognition of the gender change anyway, which is common law. With that I would just tell everyone I know that I'm making the change and what my name is going to be. It's not as solid legally, but it's certainly better than nothing. I don't know what all it would enable me to do.

On Gabriel Giffords

There is no doubt in my mind that my fate has been intertwined with some who have exacerbated my problems to the point of unprecedented, speaking anthropologically, duress. It has been my deed to survive and retain my love for others. My reliance on social security disability income is, however, not a part of what I call my survival, but a mark of low deposit of my character thanks to these persons of the exacerbation. I have no reason to believe they will continue to exacerbate my problems indefinitely.

I began work on my written autobiography on May 2, 2010. I am guessing that most of what I have written is news to my Mafia overlords. The shooting on January 8, 2011 of Gabriel Giffords has a certain random component in terms of time, and a certain structural component. I turned 60 that day. I have a certain tendency, therefore, to conclude that the Mafia allowed the shooting to occur in the interest of sending a message to the nation that that day marks a point of departure on which my reputation is to be granted a state of objection, which due to the secrecy of the deeds behind the exacerbation of my problems cannot readily be connected to the parties responsible. By pointing these things out I am putting a spin on events for perspectives to be taken and considerations to be given so that further events may be allowed to bring the parties responsible into better view. I didn't deserve to be treated as a misfit. Gabriel Giffords didn't need to be shot. One is plainly a national tragedy. One is a civilizational tragedy. Which is which? I think the answer is also plain. One doesn't allow a national tragedy to transpire unless an even greater tragedy motivates it. My continued reliance on social security is not without its costs.

Transgender's challenge to be physically active.

I am finding it a challenge as a transgender female to enter into broad-based physical activity. The issue is my choice of water balloons as breast enhancements, as they make me nervous about being too physical and risking that they will burst or fall out of my bra.

Not sure what I will do about this.

Reminder and discovery in becoming a female.

There are two principal stimulations for me to become a female: A) reminder effects, and B) discovery effects. All motives to remain a male are subsumed under some nature that is readily nullified by reminder effects, though the time it takes for this nullification varies from immediately to over the course of about an hour. Discovery effects are more basic and occur within a new universe as a female. They affect my bearing, posture, and nervous stability.

I am now within the definition of GLBT.

With my acceptance of myself as a transgender female I find myself within the definition of GLBT, or gay lesbian bisexual trnansgender. This is a fact. The common use of the term GLBT makes this fact politically active and merges my case with those of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals, in ways that may or not be to my liking but nevertheless represent a certain reality that I have to deal with. Each of the four types has its own distinctive social milieu, but these are sufficiently related to one another that the GLBT term serves a definite social and political purpose and is not to be ignored. I don't get so much value out of categorizing myself as a transvestic fetishist, which I am. It links me to transvestites in general and does not have much political power behind it, or at least so far as I can tell from having to keep my condition a secret for so long. It also, the transvestic fetishism, is not commonly known as a subgroup within transvestites, and what is believed is that it isn't a type of gender identity disorder, usually. This makes it more trouble as a category for me than it's worth.

To wear or not wear false breasts.

I have a certain reticence about wearing false breasts. On the pro side, it feels good. On the con side, it strikes me as pushing the envelope in terms of cosmetic effects. In addition to these thoughts there is the matter of just how to falsify breasts. On a slim budget my only real option is water balloons in a large cup bra. What if they should rupture? Well, I got really large balloons, so for any given inflation there is more structural strength. Also, for a really large inflation I decided to double them up, one balloon inside another. Even so, there is a risk, and an accurate estimate of the risk is not easy. But even if they did rupture, it's only water and no physical damage would be done. It would just be terribly embarrassing. I don't know what other options there are, and how much they would cost.

There is something to be said for being patient for hormones to give me large breasts. But hormones may not happen if they find my liver won't take it. Then the balloons will seem my only option.

The effects of having lived as a male for sixty years.

Probably the most difficult problem I have now is that I look like a male in my face and have developed a vast set of reinforcements for expressing the male gender. I have seen that these lead nowhere, so it doesn't basically influence my decision making, but nevertheless it makes for a hard transition.

I didn't grow up with a constant desire to be a woman. My desire was for having sexual arousal and orgasms while crossdressing and the rest of the time I just went along for the ride, doing what was expected of me. But this produced a dysfunctional man, unable to realize his most profound desires. The key ingredient, of living as a woman and having female orgasms, was absent from the world that was given to me, and consequently I didn't have before me a set of choices from which i could assemble a wholesome career and family life. So what then happened? What the hell was I to make of all this? Part of what was given to me was that I was being loved and nurtured by my family, and being educated for a useful life by the educational establishment. My duty was to believe in this, and my psyche was considered by my parents to be less important, or they wouldn't have considered my unusual gender identity an obedience problem.

The educational establishment had one chance to rectify all this. As a freshman at Yale I recognized that A) I needed a good outside opinion, and B) I was in a place where I could get one. I went to the University Health service, got an appointment with a conselor without stating what it was about, and showed up not really knowing what I needed to say or ask for except to just state I had a history of crossdressing. The counselor, after I made this statement, said something that seemed compassionate but she didn't have any questions for me. I said I understood that she was telling me that crossdressing was not a problem. I was centered on that issue rather than the larger and more urgent questions of just what I needed to do at this point. My parents had instilled the idea that I was an obedience problem in this matter and if I could get the counselor to commit to a judgment that it was not a problem then it was not an obedience problem and I would be relieved of the need for self-chastisement. The counselor answered my statement by rushing in to say she didn't mean that crossdressing wasn't a problem. It was at that point that my memory of the session ends. I left completely unsatisfied with the outcome and without any idea where to turn next. So I turned nowhere and five years later was in a mental hospital after sufferring an acute psychotic break.

For this reason I consider that Yale did me a disservice by the remarks of the counselor I saw. My openness to counseling was quashed and I never attempted to get more help. Well, perhaps negligence is hard to prove here, I don't know. I'm just not happy about Yale and what it has done for me in life. But that said, what can I expect from them now? These days, not much. It's not a happy story. Maybe I'll come to better terms with it with time. I am able to see, though, that my displeasure with Yale is based in my male complications and my female identity is basically patient about his.

Considerable rethinking awaits me, that's for sure, if I don't instead just throw out the whole male bag and accept truth as a female.

A look from a great man.

As I was exiting the men's dressing room at Filene's Basement a couple days ago, having just tried on a skirt, a tall, handsome executive type guy was standing right outside the door looking at some men's clothes and he looked up right as I walked out and saw me and looked at me carefully and gave me a smile that filled me with confidence. I immediately wondered if he wasn't there as a store detective checking out whether I was trying on a skirt with good or bad intent, however, his smile certainly was approving in any case and I smiled back and took in the moment with great thankfulness for his gesture, coming as it was from a very attractive man.

The agent which led me to step on a nail

If it is true that my crossdressing began because of the trauma of stepping on a board with a nail sticking out of it at age five, then I can extend the line of deduction farther.

Perhaps I was steered to step on the nail by bees that were angry that I caught some of them in a jar filled with gasoline. They would have known full well that my aggression would have been altered by stepping on the nail. Aggression was exactly the issue with them. I don't know if they foresaw that I would become gender identity disordered. Being centered on aggression they very well might not have.

Anxious to have real breasts

For now I have to do the best I can, which is false breasts, and this gives me some comfort. But I am anxious to start hormone treatment and have my own breasts develop. That will feel ever so much better.

Gender expression and cosmetics

Expression of a single gender is almost as just as expression of the physical gender. Cosmetics bring a physical woman into line with some ideal of Woman. They play the exact same role in a transgender female, and this is an internal legitimacy for her.

At least that's the way it seems to me.

trauma and gender identity disorder

The genders physically possess enough skeletal similarity to result in a degree of interchangeability in maintenance of the sounds of the other gender's role in adaptation. At an early age trauma has unpredictable bearing here. Deconstructing trauma is not done.

Denial of gender identity disorder persists after embracement of it. The structure of support for denial is extensive but is not logical. It marks its progress on points of ambiguity, all of which are invalidated by deeper logic.

Denial support cloaks itself in sympathy. No sympathy was extended in the travail of living the birth gender so this sympathy has ulterior motives.

Suspected cause of my turn to female as a child.

It is possible that my childhood development of transvestic fetishism, and with it gender identity disorder, has an origin in a traumatic event that dislodged me from my beginning in the male identity enough to bring on the disorder. This is something of a speculation. It involves my stepping on a board with a rusty nail sticking out that was on the border between our house lot and the prairie in back of the row of houses on Lexington Street. The origin I hypothesize here is that the incident caused me to pull back from the aggressive exploration of outside worlds typical of young males given such a large almost wild territory so ready at hand.

That being said, and acknowledging that it is entirely speculation, there would seem to be no way to avoid the consequence in gender identity disorder, and the decision I made to become trans gender will have to stand unless my female identity decides, after further review and analysis, to abandon the conversion to female.

If the incident is to blame, then there is nothing about my father that produced the disorder.

What I discern in the decision of the Mafia concerning my status review in light of my new gender.

The world is full of examples of female rulers. From that standpoint there is plenty of precedent for me. The different role of help for men and women is one possible concern an overlord might have about it. I have a history of ambivalence about being helped. On one hand it is easy. That's my male history. On the other hand it has to be clear and lasting without further comment, a stable economy being the large scale image. The stable economy is based on a female ruler's knowledge of her power relationships. Mine have been difficult, but rest on a foundation no longer active--a male foundation--but a false one based on fear of reprisals for being a female. It was not power that got me out the door into public crossdressing. It was truth and logic. Certainly a good place for a leader to be.

I will see what response there is. My environment is no less the universe. My writing on this does not specify that I am asking for permission to court. It specifies only the existence of such an entity as an equal periodicity with the statement that the universe is mine. There is plenty of room for interpretation here. One example would be that the statement offers the permission on unspecified conditions.

The departure from the Edgewater Branch of the Chicago Public Library, with the statement secure, revealed, from the outburst reaction of a young black man passing me, one of cheer, proved that my writing was being read in full, to some degree of absolute, by the black Mafia hierarchy, certainly a favorable development that bears reminder now. Ownership of the universe is a wild task set. But coterminous permission to court gives the set definition. As a partnership this is a keynote for unlimited development of power in the universe.

What a woman thinks of getting help.

My mother was a tough cookie. War nurse, mother of five, outspoken opponent of racism, the list goes on. But I believe there was always a confusion about what amount of help a woman should properly expect or ask for in any given situation. She rarely asked for help. She was able-bodied. But the term "weaker sex" is not apparently for nought. As a female now I can note that I feel a huge sphere of dependence on help all around me, that in almost any situation there can come about a margin by mmy routine ways come up short of some objective. This was never apparent when I was a male.

My mother made light of her needs for help. She had a little French phrase she repeated in mock desperation whenever she seemed to be at such a point in her routine as I mention above. It was, "au secours!" I may not be spelling it right. It means, I believe, "oh, help!"

Because she made light of needing help I always thought of this as an indication that she really didn't ever need help. It was a quickly drawn conclusion that I never gave a second thought to.

But the whole matter rests squarely on the commitment of this civilization to a strict division of labor in marriage between husband and wife. If a partner has been raised to keep a certain such division of labor as a good agreement through every up and down, that partner will be able to mind his own part of the marriage without having to speak about unexpected variances of the division, that is, ask for help. I don't believe I can recall a single incident of my mother asking for help from my father. With men it seems to be a llittle different. They are expected to become a part of the industrial world where division of labor is a vast enterprise itself, and one in which innovations, which lead very easily to new divisions of labor, are of the utmost importance at the larger, or outer, levels of that world. So men have evolved an easy familiarity with unexpected needs for help, and know how to ask for it without distracting hesitation. In my family this has led to disaster, as my father expected my mother to adapt to his changing role in the industrial world as political developments led to new feelings in the world about types of people, in particular African Americans, and my mother was hard pressed to jump when he said to on such matters. Instead, she got on a soap box at the dinner table to bolster her defensive position that she knew would not fly with my father, but her need for maintaining a comfortable home environment required this soap boxing to prevent a gradual erosion of that comfort. Perhaps it was wise. What happened instead of gradual erosion was sudden death. My father blew up one day, when family circular paths of political leaning brought everything to a focus, and left the house for good.

But my mother's and father's habits of help both suffered no ill effects and they both lived out the divorce that followed in relative comfort.

But as a trans gender female I have a great amount of groundwork to do to open myself up to the female way with help. I must learn that my immediate impulse in speech, which carries the ease of asking for help without fuss, is in need of repair. The male world has wrecked the achievements of my female impusles, more valuable impulses, for me, than the male ones I trumped up to meet the muster. If I don't listen to voices as crying out for help I can never hear my own doing the same.

My early life with gender identity disorder.

At the beginning of my life, having for unknown reasons a potential of living like a girl and no potential for living like a boy, I didn't enter into the search for a career. Every activity was shortened because the only life work I was destined for was being a full-time housewife. This was my legacy from my mother. I was the ultimate Yale female student, there only to look for a husband and not intending to use my education in a career. My high ambition was not moderated by an integral life view and got blown up way out of proportion. I scattered my interests all over and repeatedly went off the deep end in career-like ventures, scoring some remarkable victories but none of it adding up to a basic understanding of the male contract with civilization.

Now that I acknowledge being trans gender I have to ferret through the maze of thoughts, memories, and impressions from my childhood to arrive at a logically sound female contract with civilization. The greatest puzzle at the present time is my breasts. With an x and a y chromosome my breasts are vestigal. My life with gender identity disorder provides me with a sensitivity for large breasts and no sensitivity for small. Without estrogen therapy or surgical augmentation I will have small and yearn for large, forcing me to mollify myself by wearing a large cup bra with water balloons in it. It's a bizarre solution but sure feels a lot better than living without it. My mother had large breasts and living her legacy puts me into a position of naturally looking for large breasts to be there at every turn. The water balloons provide something to bear off of in that natural expectation. I believe it is not uncommon for women to stuff their bra to get a larger appearance there, so it is not absolutely correct to say that this practice is illegitimate or dishonest.

Now that I can go about in public with the stuffed bra I can relax and wear it all day every day and get used to the feeling of satiation it gives to me. Giving satisfaction to a male partner is another part of the matter as yet not a priority.

Most fundamental reason I think I am GID.

The most fundamental reason I think I am GID is that when I fall back on female taxis as I sit at the computer and work I no longer experience lapses of logical process when confronting snafus.

found a forum on transgender and posted there

I found a forum on gender identity disorder and joined and posted my story, asking for suggestions.

For my post, click here.

Illinois has laws in my favor as a transgender female.

I found a document that identifies Illinois as a jurisdiction that has laws which prohibit discrimination or harrassment on the basis of gender identity or expression. To see it, click here.

Some of the new problems as a woman.

Quite obviously everything I ever understood about men came about in a state of false presumption regarding the polarity of my devotion. The things I developed among them, speaking of any group solely of men, were foundationless.

My manner of writng is fractured and unserving me. Cycles of action begin and end on a note of misplaced identity. My notion of what I can hope to accomplish in life needs to be reset to what I can realistically hope to accomplish in a world which does not readily acknowledge the potential for mastery in women. My own accomplishments in the field of art to date need a nonlinear bridge to those to come. I have a duty to put myself in a proper interior position with women, and share their struggle. Even though I have not yet advanced into physical reassignment of my sex I am as much a woman in spirit now as I ever will be after reaching physical reassignment, or so it seems, though I would certainly welcome even higher degrees of my womanhood. My present state is rather like that of a girl entering puberty, in some ways, and yet also more familiar with coitus than that, since I have had such experiences, and my memory of the female's behavior at those times is quite active.

The overwhelming assurance I possess is that a woman can be a great person in history, and so I need not despair of precedent for good deeds in my new role. I also put my trust in my body as a register on which the greatest joys of sex can be entered, specifically as a woman, through the depth of human imagination--and a promise that as in anything, persistence, regarding the ideal of sexual rewards, pays off, for man or woman, and so I needn't expect less sexual reward as a woman than I did as a man. What lies behind the face shaped by the wrong DNA? Perhaps only time can tell.

A female mafia kingpin?

Once the diagnosis is officially GID my status as Chicago Italian./Roman Mafia First will certainly  come up for review.

Why my condition went undiagnosed

I think the reason no one ever diagnosed my condition properly is that individuals with transvestic fetishism almost all do not identify as the other gender, so this would be assumed to show that my condition is not one of GID, or gender identity disorder. I am a rare transvestic fetishist in that I have GID.

My current thinking is that now that wanting to be female is something I have to consider a part of my identity, I can relax about the fetish element of crossdressing, even not play it out anymore at all. We will see.

I'm nervous about the inevitable acceptance of men as sex partners. Although my orgasm phantasies involve basic male participation, it would seem unlikely that without surgery a real partnership with a male would be at best awkward and more probably impossible. I don't imagine actual men. Just motifs.

Over the past seven days I have had 15 orgasms, six days with two and one day with three. One of these was through imaging myself in a male role. The rest were imagining myself in a female role. The male role was had just before my first order of female clothes was delivered, about half way through the seven days.

Preparing myself for becoming a transgender female is now my primary concern, and conducting a program of twice daily orgasms seems less immediate a desire. It also becomes a serious cleanliness problem, because the consumption of my thoughts by female associations leaves no time for providing for the well-ordered tending of the accompaniments of the male anatomy to orgasm.

As a female I will have no possibility of having my own children, I am guessing.

A diagnosis for my condition.

Although I have been given various diagnoses all within the mental illness category, I now believe my diagnosis is not mental illness and the mental illness I have is completely an effect of my actual condition--transvestic fetishism.

I come to this conclusion after reading the wikipedia entry on transvestic fetishism. This is not the end of the matter. This wikipedia entry says that,

"Occurrence of transvestic fetishism is uncorrelated to occurrence of gender identity disorder.^[1] Most men who have transvestic fetishism do not have a problem with their assigned sex."

After long soul-searching I have come to the conclusion I do have gender identity disorder. I used to not exhibit it, but this was mostly because I was afraid to embrace my condition and live it as fully as I really wanted to.

Since beginning cross-dressing in my apartment--and never outside it--I have seen that I am picking up little cues at every turn to my preference for having female anatomy. This is difficult to a certain extent because the two genders have primary characteristics that are different. But the imagination, once it sets its mind, can make up for a lot of this.

I don't like the stories I have heard about sex change operation results and I don't have the money for one even if I did.

The wikipedia entry says that transvestic fetishism

"is categorized as a paraphilia in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association."

I'll have to look that up.

The entry also says that the condition

"causes clinically significant distress or impairment, whether socially, at work, or elsewhere."

This is the explanation for my diagnosis of various mental illnesses. The wording here is critical--"clinically significant."

Now I can tell my psychiatrist about it.

More on my cross dressing.

Being a female behavior for 60 years it is not likely to change in another 60. Why deny my most fundamental taxis and not cross dress in my own home?

What plans result?

To build on the achievements of one's father is the cornerstone of a son's duty. Who was there to decree a foul for me?

--the adoption route, now too late.

My father once or more cheered:

"hus sus sah
hus sus sah
hit 'em on the head
with a club us sah"

Other examples are plentiful.

Pat Cannon's story about me walking through male aggression with aplomb, at junior high, shows I picked up something from my father... but...

A hand entered our home--Marie Smach Batek, my grandmother.

Maybe I picked it up not from my father, but from his mother.

There were two options for me:

1. no cross dressing and a two-bit gangster

2. cross dressing and a kingpin

My mother was reckless. Her behavior at the movie Lucas in California in 1996 shows it. It's the kind of thing a child wouldn't notice. I noticed it because I had arcane knowledge.

My mother got mail when I was living with her in 1996 from the Rosecrucians. I asked her if she was a member and she said she had nothing to do with them.

Why did they send her mail? They wouldn't send out mass mail, I'm sure of it.

I conclude she probably was a member and kept it secret.

Al Bowyer, our neighbor in Glen Ellyn, told me there was something wrong with my mother. It could have been her living a secret life as a Rosecrucian. When did she join?

My mother was reckless. She married a crude man. What counsel did she get from the Rosecrucians?

Wisdom judges the preference of taxis in gender. Not all of the facts can be discovered however. And some are locked into the puberty bootstrap.

My first estimate of my self was as a female.

When I was very young I was very smart. I saw that my mother's speech was tied up with her mobility, that she talked things through as she encountered them. My father's speech was not reflective of his mobility. It was drab and slow moving by comparison with my mother's speech.

For this reason, I speculate, I was forced to select my mother's example for my sexual identity.

Astonishing!

But I think it is true.

I got into my mother's bureau and looked longingly at her lingerie. The smell was intoxicating. Between the ages of five and sixteen I was sexually active as a female. Wearing my mother's lingerie was so powerful a stimulus that it always made me have an orgasm. I had to wrap my organ in rags to be certain not to soil the clothes and give myself away. Actually I was caught twice and my father yelled at me that if I was caught again he would parade me in her clothes out in front by the street. The second time I was caught it moved my mother to sob and plead with me not to do it again or she would tell my father.

I'm sorry, but the alternative was to accept my father as my role model. I think he proved in his life that this would have been the greater disaster than me acting out the female role. He was fine for my siblings. I needed something more sophisticated.

Of course it was impossible to pursue the complete depth that this tendency needed. I couldn't ask my mother to raise me as a girl. I suppose I knew it was futile, that there was no solution to the problem of plumbing. This combined with the fact that my parents were both outraged by what little they knew about it made it impossible to pursue.

Sex change operations were not done back then, and even now they are more expensive than my family could have afforded. I have mixed feelings about the stigma. On the one hand it leads to humiliation and no one wants that. On the other hand my choosing the female path is a true fact and all my attempts to live a male life have left me wasted and ruined. Being up front about this is the only way I can live in truth, and that means it is the only way to realize my full potential.

I have not gone at female living in any way but those associated with using female clothes to have an orgasm. I don't see myself as physically female or suited to attract men. The path into and out of the transvestite bedroom is for me gender-neutral. Within that gender-neutral path there is the pursuit of stimuli learned from cultural information, not at first a real physical sensation, of the normal male behavior. But there is in it no such solid foundation for me as that of pursuit of the female orgasm.

I am sorry, but that is the way I have become myself. There is no male role-model for me. As a result I have failed to merge into a career path, as that requires a solid foundation in one's physical gender, whether heterosexual or homosexual. I have lived a phantom existence, and it has left me without a place in the world. It is assumed by the masses that because a child is made from the genetic material of both parents that both parents will be the child's best natural role models. In my case this assumption, which I was surrounded by growing up, was a total error, and in adulthood, having passed out of the family environment, it was an assumption that failed to explain my decisions and directions, leaving one big enigma as my whole life story.

on anti-viral software

Ever since a computer of mine was infected by a virus that tied up the computer so it would do nothing but try to sell me anti-viral software, I have had a low opinion of anti-viral software, and I currently do not carry it, nor do I ever expect to.

Now getting internet at home.

I must apologize for the long silence. My last post was in May of this year. I have been busy establishing my residence in the Garfield Park neighborhood. I initially had no internet service at home and was having to go the public library for free WiFi. I expect to be more productive now that I have my own internet service--Verizon mobile hotspot. It's like your own personal WiFi--they call it MiFi. It's wireless, picks up a 4g signal, and sends it on to up to five devices. They're having some trouble with it and I am working with them to bring their solution to my device. It's a reliability issue. The device reverts to 3g at times and the issue is apparently in these transitions. It is supposed to be able to get 3g when 4g isn't available, but there is some problem and the result is that the connection is unreliable. I'm having to spend a lot of time with a large download because the connection stops and I have to recommence the download manually too often. If it would remain connected the download would only take an hour or so, maybe less. Instead, it's taking over a week. We'll see if Verizon and I can fix it. It's not just me, but I have the additional problem that I don't have Windows or Mac and the firmware update that fixes the problem works only with those two, not my Linux OS. They have promised to get me a new device with the firmware update installed, hopefully in a couple weeks or so. All their technicians are doing their best to get me straightened out. At this point, though I did lose my temper once, I have to admit, I am a happy customer--compared to no service it's great to have some service. Fortunately, I pay a flat fee for 5 GB of transmissions so that the amount of hours I spend getting the 5 GB doesn't matter. I'm mostly concerned about getting my 5 GB, not how long it takes to get them, at least for now. I am hoping that the problem gets fixed and that the difference will be striking.

No endorsement for now, though.

drawings now on Ebay

I just put ten drawings up for auction on Ebay under the username jamesbatek. They are all abstract works.

Congratulations on the death of bin Laden.

Congratulations to the United States for killing Osama bin Laden, and to the unit that achieved it, Virginia-based SEAL Team 6. If the name of the man who fired the shot is made public, I will publish it here.

Official endorsement of Bryn Mawr Care.

Having just moved out of Bryn Mawr Care into a new apartment I would like to issue an official endorsement of Bryn Mawr Care as a nursing home for psychiatric patients. In particular I would mention the merits of Ms. Phyllis Gilmore, recreation therapy supervisor, without whom my fate would have been considerably more troublesome.

The learning curve at Bryn Mawr Care was especially steep. Through whatever channels of discovery available to them they picked up the pace in time with my work on living conditions as a function of the relations between residents.

My thanks to the owners for making this place available to me.

A reversal of the direction of information flow that normally only goes from genotype to phenotype.

Another view of the s in time that occurred to me is that it was a violation of the principle that information flows only from genotype to phenotype, not the reverse. What suggests itself as the reason the reverse could happen is that the curvature of space was so affected that an alteration of the disposition of willingness to mate with me, across the whole population of Homo sapiens, occurred, so that my phenotype had an effect on the distribution of traits by changing the relative likelihood of individuals to get into succeeding generations, and thus the aggregate genotype of the population.

What I would do with fame and fortune.

I said in a recent post that I consider my lust empowering.

As a corollary to that, there is my objective to raise the funds necessary to send 8000 of my offspring to college at $400,000 each, or $3,200,000,000.

8000 offspring is roughly one child per day with 8000 different girls. They would be drawn more or less randomly from an audience culled for health--no overweight girls, for example. The order of the acts would be from the ugliest to the prettiest, except that the most pretty would be first. It would take about 22 years, without a break. If demand warranted, I would allow some girls each day to have sex with me without me having an orgasm, that being saved for the one girl chosen as mother for that day. At the start of the 22 years I figure I might be able to accommodate 25 extra girls a day this way, and this would drop of linearly to no extra girls at the end of 22 years. the total number of acts would be about 100,000.

This is what I would do with fame and fortune. Happiness would be a formula for lust.

The consequences of my most distinguishing experience.

Some doubt is in my mind about me starting a new species.

The event which most distinguishes me from others is my passing through an s in time. This is not an event of biological making, but of physical. Other instances may have occurred in the universe and may have happened to other chemical species than DNA. In fact, the event that occurred to me may have resided in some partial component of my molecules, hosted by the complete DNA as a platform within the universal environment, of the surface of the earth, the earth itself, the solar system, the galaxy, etc.. An s in time is a matter of all branches of the state variable of the universe following from one point in time. It occurs, I might venture, when some single particle of matter gets backed into a corner of mixed improbabilities. The circumstances around such an event must express these improbabilities in a continuous way, from the immediate vicinity of the particle into the space around it. The balance of all possible outcomes is so managed in the physical foundation of the particle that the sum of all these minor improbabilities gets converted into the single improbability of an s in time, as a solution to all the many minor improbabilities at once. Evidently such a situation is not favored by any particular density of matter, and can occur with equal probability in empty space or space containing aggregations of matter into stars and planets.

The outcome is a change in the effects of accumulation of matter. These effects are apparently not felt much by life, which is occupied with business in all its myriad physical contexts for their impact on biological drives. The physical effects are however deeply felt by all matter, in all physical states, these being the solid, liquid, gaseous, and plasma. Life has its characteristic rate of discovery of physical processes and this rate is not changed by an s in time which occurs in one place. So the result of the s in time is highly discriminative between its host molecule and the rest of the DNA population, which must wait for the result to spread into effects that can be detected by biological molecules.

The origin of life 3.5 billion years ago was a rare event. An s in time is comparably rare. Life seems to have no signature in astronomically observable effects. Its rarity is of questionable value to anything other than life itself. An s in time is quite different.

The New Haven girl who laughed.

I experienced for a moment with a New Haven girl the power over women that a Yale Man has. We went to East Rock Park. I doubt she would have gone with me if I had not been a Yale Man.

The moment was generated by the sensation I had taking her in my arms. It was the first time I ever felt lust with a woman. I had had the feeling of lust when I was cross dressing in secret and had my first orgasm. But with this woman I felt lust equal to that and was equally stymied by unsuitability of it. My first instinct was to say to her, "I love to feel you!" hoping she would open herself to equal lust herself. She didn't. She was struck by my virginity as if it was laughable, and that's just what she did. She laughed almost uproariously. It wasn't true virginity as I had copulated before, but once it was without attraction to the girl and the other time it was phobic to intercourse, for the sake of nominal virginity. This New Haven girl, of course, knew nothing of my history, but what was laughable about my behavior I cannot fathom. She probably was not aroused at all and my expression of feelings plainly declared that I was, and this inequality she took as some bizarre type of social advantage, and used that advantage to exult over my gullibility that she would be responsive. The words I said stand as a monument to the cruelty of people, for though her expression of advantage seems to me bizarre, to her it bespoke totally a presumption of due ridicule. She was laughing into her crowd, her social circle, while I spoke into the history books, for such is the nature of my published writings. My lust is empowering, and I never make excuses for it. If Yale taught me anything, it is that social circles are best left behind one as he sets out on a quest for eternal significance. Let the circles feel the effects in peculiar or distant ways, as is their need. I have a sense of the beautiful, or I would never have gotten this far, and it serves as a light on my products, hinting at the existence of some or other place where others, not just myself, will welcome them. It is not the complete product, but it counts. I think there is something beautiful in the story of the New Haven girl who laughed. It didn't lessen my lust. It served notice that lust for me is always close at hand, at which there will always be those who laugh. It could be worse, and in fact, in places it is. Other stories append there. Read the autobiography. The name of the New Haven girl of this story is Cindy Koval.

Congratulations to Egypt.

Hearty congratulations to Egypt on its attainment of freedom from dictatorship. May its stewardship of the remains of the ancient kingdoms be suitable to the modern realities, including the existence of my own Osiris-touched life.

What Crystal Newell may or may not understand, and how that needs to change if I succeed without her.

What Crystal Newell needs to convince me of if she ever develops a desire to show me loyalty is that having a child when I am in my seventies is a proper achievement for me.

We know Charlie Chaplin did it. But that just proves one incident. If Crystal is to exceed with her sexual prowess the competition, which is whatever becomes a reasonable field of females for me given what success I have once I leave Bryn Mawr Care, then that success, and Crystal's view of it in terms of what desire for me it generates, must be set against one another. This is the state of affairs I have created by breaking up with her. I am not trying to make her jealous. I am giving her a chance to see herself on a larger scale, one which may turn out to be more than she can manage. If I succeed greatly, then there will be little reason to return to just an old girlfriend unless she has some real sense. She will have to take the first step. Time is wasting already.

My last four artworks.

My last four artworks. Their titles, top to bottom, are: 1) economy, entropy 2) two sized circles 3) split circles 4) large $. All are 9 in. x 12 in., colored pencil on Bristol.

Sports, the Mafia, and toughness.

I think there is considerable evidence to suggest that my status as an athelete is considered by some to be unusually strong for a Mafia kingpin, as apparently they tend to have a less fraternal life beginning than I have been privileged to pursue. Or it may be that my athleticism is cited by those who would defend my selection against a faction critical of my toughness. Wrestling is a sport without blows, but replete with toughness, and that is where I found my sporting voice, leading me into manhood with a good footing.

No connection between me and the Jews, despite the analogy with Moses.

I have on occasion referred to myself with the terms, "the successor to Moses." This usage is misleading and I regret using it without any clarification of the fact that there is in it no implication whatsoever with respect to the Jews. Moses was tied to the Jewish race by birth and by personal identification with it that came later in his life than his earlier position of privilege within the Egyptian culture. I have no such tie or personal identification with the Jews. I do not attribute what I saw to an entity called God. I consider it instead to be a natural phenomenon that has enabled me to have a significant effect on my surroundings, these being those of a mentally ill person living in a nursing home for the mentally ill. It seems clear that there is something of an analogy between the Jews' role in the life of Moses and the mentally ill's role in my life. I don't bother to look for an analogy in my life for the parting of the Red Sea. First, it seems unlikely that anything like the event as depicted in the movie, The Ten Commandments, actually occurred. Second, I gather that I am something more of a scientist than Moses was, and expect more of a scientific process from myself rather than a magical one.

There is no doubt in my mind that what I did for the community in the nursing home where I live at this writing was something eligible to be called a miracle. I am myself at a loss to explain the particular acts I took, except for the ones related to the line-ups here, which are more simple in conception even though they too were very difficult under the conditions that existed at the time. What I said in the dining room I doubt I will ever find a way to explain. It was said in such utter turmoil, was so at pains to improve the situation, and drew from such an extreme ramp-up of understanding toward the creation of a positive effect, that explaining it will forever be a less useful and because of that a less likely action. It appears the effect is permanent, and done with such finality that my own fate is less tied to the mentally ill now than Moses's fate was tied to the Jews after he worked his magic at the Red Sea. My reading of this is that all of the mentally ill here have a greatly expanded field in which to seek their fortunes, and my fate is to seek my fortunes like the rest of them. Thankfully, I have no role in serving the mentally ill any more. I am at work on my personal understanding of mental illness and if I am successful in it I expect to benefit personally and not share my understanding with others, others having completely rejected the initial stages of development of my work.

Such is the path of logistical division between myself and H. sapiens.

Not a saint.

In case anyone is wondering, I am not a saint.

It is my debt to myself to understand the terms under which I seek to establish a more livable solution than the one I have worked under as a result of setting a goal for myself in college of serving the poor without regard to my own needs. This was a difficult goal from the outset and didn't have the effect on me of transforming my day to day sense of progress. As a result I made other plans than service without reward, first in economics and then in architecture, with the outcome of mental illness, perhaps because I had this conflict deep in my mind over the issue of rewards and the scale of the undertaking. The largest scale of undertaking of any I considered was this one with no consideration for reward. In a sense, it was this fact that guided my decisions over the long term and led to homelessness, in which I was forced to make do with a future utterly without reward, so why not make something of it, thus setting me up for pursuing the service goal I visualized in college. In this way, I rallied around my ambition, whose highest expression, in my case, was off scale in the world of college at Yale. And it could be said that I rallied around my ambition from the moment I reflected for the first time on service in a college setting. But still, this was motivated by self advancement, which is what ambition is all about. When one serves, he elevates everyone, and can expect this will include himself, though he must understand that this elevation takes fundamentally different directions in the case of those served and in the case of the one who serves. For those served, there is relief. This is absolutely different from the idea of the service economy. There, one works for pay, and performs service that contributes to, ultimately, what I have heard described as "the quiet enjoyment of assets." The history of the species is basically organized around this objective, and the stories of outsize servants dot the fabric here and there, but do not define the species assets. I have come to the conclusion there must be more in it than such an eccentric role for me. I want to be able to engage in the quiet enjoyment of assets, and I want to understand how this is accomplished so that I can raise my progeny up in that understanding. However, my reality is not economically strong. I produce nothing and do nothing that draws investment. What I produce is understanding. It is of the scale of my ambition. Generally, others will see no merit in it. My work is not generative of viral growth of audience.

However, there is evidence I have aroused the interest of some with a role that implies great ambition is not foreign to them. These identities will not be turned aside by the lack of ready economies in what I produce, or so I surmise, while they will still be looking to benefit. I find this picture of them attractive. Perhaps it fits. Perhaps it doesn't fit. Either way, it is wise for me to incorporate a more understanding component of my audience than any I began with when I started this blog. I knew such a component existed, but I had only a hope of seeing it respond.

With the manifestation of this component, as it occurs in spikes of large numbers of views of the blog in very short time intervals, there came a call to be cautious. A certain critical element is to be inferred. Confidence I am on the right path made it easy to operate in the spotlight of criticism. Yet it calls for something more than what I have done in the past. I must be starkly honest about my motives. This will serve my base of action.

This honesty about my motives leads me to question why I wish to seek financial comforts after having so strongly spoken of my goal to serve and to count myself among those who certainly didn't produce economic returns in proportion to their service. I have begun to enter this area of thought above. The species is centered on assets, not outsized service, which is an afterthought. My economic desolation gave me a space to inhabit of small size, but my critical skills found use in the time left to me, and I have invested in understanding, coming up with some ideas with large implications. On the strength of these ideas I determined that tool use by humans caused them to lose body hair because it made up for a loss of tactile contact with their environment.

I seem to be in a frame of mind in which I lead myself into concepts that extend in many directions none of which has the definition required for standing on to go any further. This may be out of having no conversation in the large scale of ideas, and needing to let ideas simmer for a while before it becomes obvious what the next proposition with merit will be.

That being the case, I allow that the ideas the reader may take from all this may well be earlier, and this present bit of writing is not yet as fruitful.

Report on a random occurence of note.

During something like a month preceding the news that I will be getting public housing, which was at the beginning of January, I did one of my occasional random selections of letters of the English alphabet, in this case of four letters, using the random number generator of my calculator.

The letters selected were "exod."

The fit at this point to the word "exodus" was so close, and the relevance to my claim of being the successor to Moses being so strong, I decided not to select further letters, the fear they would not be "us" being also a factor. Perhaps the exclusion of the English word "us" is a play on the fact that the departure will not be in the plural, but in the singular.

Thus a further evidence that my command of my bureau, specifically my ability to extract from it information without formulating it intentionally and thus without exerting stress on the formation of the information, so as to ease my going forward in harmony between the universe and my organic drives, is realized.

Depth of propagation into human race of my actions at Bryn Mawr Care.

An appropriate question at this point is: how deeply into the human population has the action I took here at Bryn Mawr Care propagated? Very hard to say. It surrounds me, and that is all I can say with certainty, which fortunately may be enough to get me past this obstacle that has been my home for twelve years, 17 if you consider it from the time I first arrived.

Hex on Twitter lifted.

I am ending my stand against Twitter. It's hard for me to adjust to so much change, but it does seem as if I am doing a little better understanding them. So the hex is lifted.

Architect jobs search on careerbuilder.com brings up only IT jobs.

I am wondering what architects, that is people who design brick and mortar buildings, think of the fact that when one does a search for jobs with the keyword "architect" on careerbuilder.com, and I presume similar sites give similar outcomes, all the jobs that are returned have to do with information systems architecture--none about bricks and mortar architecture, at least the first several pages worth of results.

Where do architects search for jobs?

Odors in my closet.

I have detected a complex of irritating odors evidently originating in my closet. This development followed a recent improvement in my personal habits.

Chicago Bears not supported for the Super Bowl.

With no girlfriend, Crystal Newell having been removed from that role a day or so ago, I can no longer support the Chicago Bears in their bid for the Super Bowl.

It is hard to set aside in my mind the suspicion that "biblical" flooding in Australia has a connection with my persistent economic failure. While in Moses's case he sealed his fate with those of a population, and rode out the intercession of global forces as protector of those peoples, I have not sealed my fate to any group, and the good that would come from me having economic success is a matter of my standing in the ecology. My success would open up new ecological relationships. The forces of mankind would become allied with those of certain other species whom I have discovered to be favorable to my work. The biblical disasters make of this not an offer, but a threat, leaning on the greater time scale of survival of these other species and their understanding of what is good for the ecology. Quite evidently, they consider what is happening to me to be bad for the ecology.

I did what I did for the other residents at my nursing home to make it more livable for myself. I don't expect repayment, and that is the part of the situation that is understandable in terms of religious values--selflessness and goodwill. But evidently, because the biblical disasters continue, such goodwill delivered at present is not what is as yet unrealized, and therefore sought, here. While Moses may have known considerable about the ecology to enable him to work miracles, it would appear that he did not know much about the ranks of the ecology which enabled him to work them. He spoke in the Old Testament of the role of God in bringing about his miracles. He wouldn't have had to resort to this attribution if he had known the fact that other species have ranks which exceed mankind in ecological persistence, and have the knowledge that makes it possible.

Mankind has created a temporary food chain apex for itself. It has not yet found a way to turn from its hungers long enough to create as part of its general individual legacy a place in the ecological and geological understanding of the planet. In fact, very little general individual legacy at all is passed on. We are exploring what we can reach on a very small legacy of u understanding.

You may read here that biblical disasters are the lot of a species that doesn't understand. For such a species only widespread retribution, focused by a mind which is at the very heart of the issue, will bring change. You have individuals who determine how species assets will be directed. These individuals are hampered by national rivalries and religious fervor. Such a situation ought to be immediately recognized as a condition of dependence on other species for a temporary food chain apex.

It was plainly obvious that a certain television commercial some ten years ago, in which two climbers bedded down in bags tied together on a sheer vertical mountain face, was only possible if someone had tapped into my mind and seen my thoughts about the time when I saw on a building the same fire that Moses saw on a bush, or at least saw my memories of those thoughts. At about that moment I visualized a party of six or so climbers bedding down on a sheer mountain face. This is not the kind of image that pops up like that without some very dedicated cause.

The commercial was for VISA.

At the time I was far from entertaining any thought of acquiring a VISA credit card. But within a year or so I did.

I have interpreted the commercial as having been intended to get resources to me so that I would not need to pursue a course of biblical mayhem such as Moses did.

Unfortunately, my dire circumstances are not the kind that yield to the obtaining of a line of credit. I had hoped they would be and I have worked along that line of development, but to no avail. I have also been receptive to the notion of special considerations as a deterrent to my having to "destroy the Egyptian army." Of course I am not blind to the distinctly avaricious factors in such an arrangement, for both myself and the interested third party. But if I am required to grant the legitimate claims of my educational loan creditors then I can't see how anyone can deny me my own distinctly selfish motives.

So the question now presents itself: is the person responsible for the appearance of my line of credit willing to endorse something more demonstrative? Such a move would necessarily have to plan to engage at some point the powers which I allege have blacklisted me. The simple fact that the identity of these blacklisting powers is not known to me argues that to succeed a measure designed to bring me economic prosperity would have to do something antecedent to widespread viral events. The blacklisters dwell on my faults. They would seek to extinguish viral beginnings by featuring them.

My problem is that I don't know what would be a good ignition point for going viral, and what approach to take in phrasing an ignition point in terms of the many unusual details of my life, as evidenced in my autobiography now available on scribd.com.

But there are problems for others in such a plan. Jealousy. Suspicion. Tradition. Religion. Meeting such elements of failure will require extreme measures.

You ask, how can I sustain such unlikely suggestions? But I say, how can you stand by and watch biblical disasters continue?

The amount of nonsense and suffering that accompanies jealousy, suspicion, tradition, and even religion is what can be avoided, provided there is enough sense of an alternative in my life and work. The threat of disasters continuing is a bet on a good number. It needs examination.