Sole operator, soul proprietor - The School of Instant Pain

~As of July 29, 2008, I declare myself a complete and total Sole Operator! Though I live among you, I function as a semi-closed-system entity, while respecting society's rules, as much as possible.~

~Who could/would ever care for my concerns as much as I do? No one, no one, no one - it is obvious.~

~Then again, I Also recognize that each person bears complete responsibility for their own happiness and survival.~

~ Half a week ago, I did 30 minutes of underwater survival training, with myself only - kids nearby. I hope for an edge: that when near-certain death seems only seconds away, I might be able to wring a few more seconds out of my life by doing This. Or That. As one who doesn't spend much time around water these days, but who has been a competent swimmer until now, I thought about the mechanics of air- and water-flow through a hollow tube, and I think I figured out one useful thing I could do when my airway is filling with water and I'm starting to choke - if I have the presence of mind at the time.~

~I am glad I had some training crunching numbers on modeled laminar flow rates of Kilauean volcanism. It was a good student project, because Hawaiian volcanism seems to be nearly as "laminar" as mid-ocean ridge volcanism. That said, my possible drowning should be riddled with a turbulent element, and I've got to try to keep the fluid flow somewhat laminar, so I can eject the water for a few more seconds in the manner I've practiced -?!~

~I took my practice bout pretty far, but I'm fine - I didn't drown.~


"The School of Instant Pain" by Triumvirat, off their Spartacus album.

I'll be your guide, so join me and fight - to break down the walls that keep us in this misery. I'll be your friend, believe in the end, we built up a new and better land.

I've been trained to kill a man, with a sword, a spear, or with my hand. As nature built me big and strong - the gladiator's song.

We're kept like animals in a cage - they pay for it to see the rage. Their kicks have become stale and dry; they get excited when we die.

Our life, it is not meant to last - the arms so strong, the eyes so fast. We're putting on a special show and selling out the big front row.

There is no chance of getting free; it's good-bye for eternity, and death is near; it won't take long - the gladiator's song.

Get ready now, this is your next fight, ~Mensch~ - Don't think too much about yourself. Last night you told me that you can't go on - You have no choice, you go to hell.

You said, the moments. you enjoyed your life; they seemed to fade away so fast. And when you felt that you had found a friend, you knew for sure it wouldn't last.

I know these people in the audience, they want the show to be on time. Don't hesitate; I ring my special bell, and you know that's my starting sign.

So draw your knife, go out and take your chance, and show these folks your bravery. And if you manage to come back alive: Tomorrow's Big fight is at three!

© 1975 Triumvirat All Rights Reserved.
© 2008 (July 30) Ribonuff. All Rights Reserved.