I was watching an “Underworld” recap video that went over all the movies, and there was some mention/jokes about the leather pants.

And it made me think: Someone needs to make a “Back to the Future”-style time travel movie where someone gets dressed up to fit in with the times and goes back to the late 90s/early 2000s, and they’re like wearing leather pants and just basically dressed like they stepped out of “The Matrix.”

And there could be jokes where someone calls them Columbine or like the dude farts in his leather pants or… Just everything WRONG with leather pants is pointed out in the funniest way possible.

And I think that if there’s mention of Columbine, the time traveler could point out that “No, it wasn’t about the trench coats and goth makeup, but about being raised as a Nazi.” And then when the time traveler returns back to the future, they find that they’ve completely changed the timeline with their shenanigans. And EVERYONE is wearing leather pants–like even babies and old people. Which is like, “We’re 100 years old, but we’re so fashion conscious that we’ve given up the comfort of elastic waistbands and knitted sweaters for leather pants and belly shirts.” or “It’s super hard changing the diaper of a baby wearing a leather onesie, but that baby looks FIRE!”

And the time traveler is horrified and has to go back and fix the timeline like when Marty was traumatized by his mom’s boob job in “Back to the Future.”

I think I would watch that movie.

A City On Mars at Amazon

Sometimes I have thoughts that I just blurt out. Not all of it is complete nonsense from a nerd.

You don’t have to LITERALLY name your kid what you decide to call them.
“Cotton” can be a nickname. It’s not illegal (outside of Florida).
Plus it’s better to have a childhood name to be known by. Keep your child’s legal name outside of peoples’ mouths!–February 9, 2025 at 1:32 AM

Nicknames are great. Nicknames are fun. Nicknames are one of the ways we can anonymize our children enough that they can’t be kidnapped by someone you had a beef with online.

There are people that gather statistical data on our population simply to make fun of the parents for giving their children such dumb/silly/ridiculous/awful/great names. And while the information is public facing knowledge… you don’t have to draw skeevy peoples’ attention to it.

How many kids in the country have the legal first name “Cotton.” Who were born within a certain span of years. With a parent likely to use [whatever social media platform].

It’s much easier to track somebody down if they have an uncommon or somehow noticeable name.

Go ahead and call your kid Cotton. Let everyone call them Cotton (to the point that they THINK it’s related to the real name). But give them a normal sounding and spellable legal name.

To do otherwise is to draw peoples’ attention to your children.

If I were flipping through paperwork, I’d be like “Another Robert. Clickety-clickety, all filled in, moving on to the next” about an easy to type name. But if his name was spelled “RahBurt,” I’m going to remember that name. It’s going to stick in my head. Along with any other information associated with the name.

You could have 9000 people pass through a hospital’s doors with an object inserted in their body, but you’re going to REMEMBER “RahBurt with the tangelo.” And somehow, someway, dozens of steps later, some YouTuber is going to make a video talking about an incident. And they’re going to mention RahBurt’s name.

And that’s his LEGAL name that he would have to pay money to change.

And all the people that have EVER seen RahBurt’s name written anywhere, is going to immediately memory-flash back to WHEREVER they saw his name. A Highlander-the-1990s-TV-Show-style flashback will strike down some ex-hospital worker somewhere and they will remember the embarrassed person desperately trying not to die from sepsis due to the “easy to remove” tangelo that never should have been used for that purpose and was bad at the job.

And a funny comment will appear below a video or post.

And suddenly your son RahBurt is wishing you were dead for not giving him the nickname Cotton.

Because life is a circle. Destruction and repair or destruction and replace. An ouroboros where we can never know exactly where we are in the process of the snake eating itself.

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon

The world today is a horror story. And we are all caught up while murderers and madmen and narcissistic fools cavort around us, certain that money will protect them even as they cause a collapse of our financial systems. Bankrupting themselves, their families, and their friends as they destroy a country they profess to love.

It is a frightening time.

Mostly because we cannot visually recognize those that will harm us from the other people that are scared like us. We are infested with apocalypse lovers, human zombies trying to kill us all.

And whether they’re nihilists or evangelical cultists, the result will be the same.

Because those that think they can control and manipulate the fall of an empire, are wrong.

They like to think they’re solo players and we are all NPCs created to be hunted, preyed upon, massacred, mutilated, and managed by a few words and a check full of money.

They don’t understand that when the system is damaged or destroyed, all those laws and leverages no longer apply. And then there will be planes crashing. Rivers flooding. Plague and pestilence run amok. Famine and fury as loved ones begin to needlessly die.

They have all of human history to consult. They don’t need to be such fools; they choose to be. All so they can proclaim themselves unchosen kings! With the expectation that the peasantry will just bow down before them, because that’s how NPCs act in their badly written narratives.

And it’s like, “Dude, what are you doing? You had a BILLION dollars in a currency that was universally accepted around the world. A currency that every other rich person on the planet was stockpiling because it could be used ANYWHERE and had a phenomenal value as compared to the local currency. And you’ve pissed that all away, for what?

“So EVERY person in the country can know your name and revile you as a massive idiot??? So you can destroy the economy and the country’s safety, and you can be POOR??? What are you doing?

“Oh, you’re going to switch to the blockchain. You’re going to buy your ridiculously expensive groceries with cryptocurrency. You’re going to grow potatoes and make your own vodka. You’re going to power the electrical grid with coal. Sure, brah.

“It’s not like there’s a reason why gold bars are worth so much and were the chosen stockpiled money for every other society that historically collapsed under the complete criminal idiocy of the wealthy ‘class.’ [ insert “I’m the king.” “Well I didn’t vote for you”-Holy Grail gif ] That group of people that amassed so much money and weaponry that they decided it allowed them to circumvent the basic rules of human life.

“Every rich ‘class’ that has ever existed has chosen to push the people to the point where the people decided to amputate them from society. And life as a whole. The guillotine was a choice, and it was a choice made by the rich. A sacrifice they chose to make as they ignored all the warnings around them.”

But I would never say that, because they would never listen to me. Because I’m poor. Because I live in a blue state. Because I don’t attend their churches. Because I’m afraid of the violence their rabble flings around.

They don’t want to listen. And I don’t want to dwell.

I will speak on the fuckery I see. I will point out the laws they break as they march the human race straight toward oblivion. But I refuse to let them burrow their way into my head, laughing as they think they’re being trolls when they’re causing ACTUAL lasting harm to everyone including themselves and their loved ones.

They’re fools. They’re choosing to bring down society because they exist in the delusion that they are important. That when the end of the world happens, they will spend the rest of their lives being a mini-king somewhere, with shackled sex slaves and cowed workers in their many fields.

And I just don’t understand why rich people are doing this.

Like, you had enough money that you could buy private islands. You have your own jet; you can go anywhere you want at any time. You can have someone cook you delicious food at any moment you desire. You have enough money that beautiful people will willingly have sex with you in return for money or resources.

You were already a king in the world!

And now people laugh when your private planes crash. People revel in the hilarity when you implode miles beneath the ocean. You have to hire masses of bodyguards whenever you go out because there’s a real chance that someone will want to shoot you dead on the street.

Like, people don’t want to kidnap you for ransom anymore. They want to kill you.

And what did you ruin your life for?

You were so wealthy that even if your business empire toppled, you could still afford a lifetime of private security as you rotate between multiple homes and you would never have faced a day of hunger. You were so wealthy that even if you “lost everything,”you would still have more than most people ever have in their entire lives.

“But if my business empire collapsed, everyone would know. They would mock me. I would be too embarrassed to live!”–My dude, if you would have allowed yourself, you could have gotten over it.

Within a few years, the younger people wouldn’t have even known who you are. You could have grown some bangs, changed your clothes, and nobody would have recognized you if you changed your name.

You were not that important.

And now people have you on their mind, and it’s so negative that every other person in your demographic is being looked at as though they’re DEMONS.

It boggles my mind. The world today is heading toward a massive change. And whether our society is saved or it gets replaced, it’s a mystery we can’t know until the dice settle.

It’s a very scary time. And I am angry at those that caused it to be so.

All you had to do was live a moral life. And a good future would have just happened.

But some people are obsessed with war and domination and they have psychological issues they refuse to address. And as a result, all the rest of us are going to suffer.

And personally I think that no single person should ever be so rich that they can just have a brainfart and destroy some necessary part of our society.

So while they try their best to make everything darker and bleaker and more terrible…

I will post more fiction and poetry. I will draw more. Sing more. Podcast more. I will share more content from both myself and others.

My blog here will address issues in the same old “essay” format. Like when I rant about raw milk or nerd out about electric kitchen composters. But I will try my best to not be another mote of misery on your timeline.

I would rather be a helper ala Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood than a psy-op that presents itself as helpful while actually sucking the air out of the room.

I believe that there will still be joy and happiness in the future. That life is still worth living. Because no matter how bad it gets, I believe that there are other people that feel the same way I do. That civilization can be bright.

We can save the environment. We can live in happiness while not causing misery to others. We can protect the Earth so we’re not forced to colonize Mars.

I believe that good life will come back. And until it does, I will post with joy.

Dark stories. Bright stories. Horror stories. Romance stories. Tales of science fiction and fantasy and all the introspections of living a life in a different world.

I would rather be a positive than a negative.

Count Zero at Amazon

My pinkie was hurting. It just suddenly started, seemingly by itself. A mysterious pain at the tip of my finger.

Then I looked at my finger, and there was a tiny hairlike sliver under my fingernail.

I couldn’t move it with the thumbnail of my opposing hand. I had to use my teeth to shift it (because tweezers are for people that want to get up and walk into another room and open a drawer, and that’s not me). But it very easily came right out. And the pain stopped. Problem solved.

But it’s one of those type of ouchies that if I would have ignored it, the pain would have continued to grow, and over a length of time the sliver could have burrowed itself further under my fingernail.

If I lived in ancient times, it could have become a serious medical issue.

Or like, living in our current times where they’re trying to get rid of "Obamacare"/"The Affordable Care Act", it could have conceivably ballooned from a free solve to a $500 problem. If not more, due to inflation. (Like, dude, some of those "cheap" medical tools are manufactured in other countries. The Trump Tariffs could go from them charging you $1.50 for a little paper cup they put pills in to $5 for a paper cup. The prices of things are not spread out to the business; they’re charged to the consumer. That’s you and me, fool.)

So like, without pausing, I solved a problem. I didn’t spend twenty minutes asking no one "What is that thing under my fingernail? How did this happen?!?" I didn’t get out a razor blade and start slashing under my fingernail.

I did a low-risk, high-return action that removed the sliver and stopped the pain.

I’m not suggesting that someone should knee-jerk order a "necessary for life" water reservoir to be dumped with little to no warning to the people effected. But if you’ve got a sliver in your finger, or an itch in your crotch, or whatever minor issue you’ve got that you can solve yourself… why wait until it becomes a big deal? Solve it yourself.

Pluck out that silver. Take a shower. Buy yourself some cream. Go no contact with your terrible relatives. Dance if you want to dance. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Pet your dog. Hug your cat. Watch movies you enjoy, not movies you think you should enjoy. Be happy in the moment.

Because the moment doesn’t last.

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.
https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

P.S. I once knew a woman that had to miss like a week of work after she had to get surgery because she popped a zit on her chest and it became inflamed and infected. So I’m standing there, trying to wear an expression of care and concern, and meanwhile my brain is like:

  • why didn’t you wash your hands before you did that?
  • why didn’t you realize shit was serious when the area started swelling up and turning colors?
  • how hard did you squeeze that zit to cause yourself a medical emergency?
  • it turned into a gross wound and you didn’t put any Neosporin and a bandaid on it?

Just all around, it was difficult for me to maintain an expression of empathy. Like, I could see something like that possibly happening to me, but listening to someone else describe how it happened to them… Gross, dude. Wash your hands more.

And context is a little key there, as her job involved working with one of the most disgusting, unhygienic substances on the planet–cash money–but at the same time it’s good advice for all walks of life.

You handle your dog. You touch your feet when you take your shoes off. You scratch your nose. You scratch your scalp. You’ve never sanitized your keyboard. You sit in a chair someone previously farted in. There’s so many ways living beings spread an invisible layer of filth around.

Wash your hands before you eat. Prewash the skin surface and wash your hands before you pop a zit (which, you shouldn’t do, but people do, so). Use antiseptic on your open wounds. You can even put antiseptic over your healing scab.

The idea of "a little dirt don’t hurt" is that you don’t have open wounds and the dirt hasn’t been contaminated. And that, you know, the person doing gross shit is up-to-date with their tetanus shots.