The Modern Kong Zi

In a society relentlessly trying to sell me digital media, I remain in belief that printed literature is only gaining popularity. When I ride the subway in San Francisco, I see enough people reading books to combat the stereotypical nomophobic generation. In an ever growing, and perpetually better educated society, digital media will exist in harmony with print media, just as brick and mortar will coexist with e-commerce . This conversation is impossible to have if one does not recognize and apply an uncertainty principle (of sort) to the constantly evolving internet. Anything is possible. Just ride the waves as they come.

All of this being said, I do not have any printed media, and feel eons from a migration to that medium; I have contrarily expressed interest in video work. I do however make a valiant attempt to remain reading; one should never be caught off guard by the question ‘What book are you reading?’ As for myself, I am currently reading Outliers. This book very different from anything I have laid eyes on in some time, as I was on a 19th century fiction kick. I highly recommend Outliers to anyone interested in success stories, who is also not afraid of redefining success. Lowkey though…entropy, so don’t act surprised.

I will conclude this post with a ramble about some of my favorite books, the first being The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Written by a dead man named Steig Larson, he wrote two and a half novels by similar titles, and I haven’t yet read the final half-a-novel. The original title of his first book is Men Who Hate Women, or Män som hatar kvinnor in Swedish, and I will conclude my favored review on it with that.

The second and third books I would like to talk about are Frankenstein and Dracula. I found the latter more dramatic, but preferred the writing of Mary Shelly. She took me with a swift simplicity into the Swiss Alps, letting me explore her world like a child in the snow. Then, she landed me feet first, back upon my own reality, with socks dryer than a Tucson summer. The words of Bram Stoker, in contrast, are bloodstained print, no matter which edition you read.  He rips your heart out and leaves you tickle brained off of a book; a sewer of classics may find Dracula the most delicious of poisons.

Finally, I will say simply this: reading this book helped shrink the universe into a more manageable size for me. Two of Stephen Hawking’s books combined into one illustrated version. It is very important to get the illustrated version.

Chris 12.30.17

Merry Christmas!!!

It is December 25th, 7:04 AM in Oakland, CA. I sit here, listening to Michael Buble and Shania Twain do their Christmas thing, and will let the words flow. Two-Thousand-Seventeen was one hell of a year for me. More than likely if you are reading this, you have joined me in 2017, as I adopted Heart of Zeus only in May of this year. The beginning of the year had me in Wisconsin, my home state. The middle of the year brought me to Seattle, Washington, and now I reside in Oakland, CA. 2018 will probably involve less moving around for me, but only time will tell.

When I began Heart of Zeus, I truly had no direction. I bought the website practically on impulse, after realizing I wanted a creative outlet; while investigating domain name availability I came across this, and bought it immediately. Bearing the roots of a travel blog, the tales of my adventuring in the archives, I have slowly shifted my focus. Heart of Zeus now revolves mostly around Ganja. This is due to a void in the cannabis community, where in I believe there is much room for cannabis content creators. Unfortunately for other aspiring Cannabloggers, I am the funniest, and will more than likely prevail because of it.
That is not a joke.

In 2018 you can hope to find a more intimate connection with Heart of Zeus, as I be embracing the art of Video. I will be getting more involved with the YouTube community, especially the ASMR community on YouTube, which I hold a personal connection to, as some of those artists helped to guide me through darker times. I speak of The Water Whispers Ilse, Springbok, SensorAdi, Gray Bailey, and numerous other ASMR artists on YouTube. As of late I have been less about new content, since I don’t use ASMR as much as I have in previous years. I still try to find time to maintain a healthy mind, and a healthy body, however. I started today with Gray Bailey. His ASMR at 5 videos are a calming way to wake up, but also a great tool to help optimize your day if you listen closely.

That will conclude my post for Christmas Day, 2017. Have a good day, and thanks for spending some time with Heart of Zeus.

Chris 12.25.17

I ate hummus in San Francisco

I just smoked some banana kush, and now allow me to tell you of my yesterday.

I ended up having the day off when I didn’t text my boss back, so I went into the city to explore. It was sunny, but windy in San Francisco. I’m beginning to realize a slight chill is normal, especially for December 20th, and I do have to stop and realize once and a while that this is the warmest winter I have ever experienced.

I left my house around noon. Some would call where I am located south Prescott, but I call it Lower Bottoms (these are neighborhoods of west Oakland), because Prescott is in Arizona. In three minutes walking time I made the BART station, then I waited an additional 5 minutes for the next train; any train would’ve done. I spent 4.5 minutes under the Bay before reaching the Embarcadero, of which there is a conglomerate of items under that same name in San Francisco, a street, the subway station in question, and several skyscrapers which are hailed as “Embarcadero Plaza.”
I did not exit the train.

I remained in my seat until the 16th and Mission exit, and it was one of the furthest trips I have taken on the BART. Outside I found myself greeted with sun, and a plethora of people. Some of them were homeless, but that’s the city life. The first thing I encountered after walking only briefly was a blustering spray paint mural, maintaining its usual habitat of an alleyway. A beautiful site, deep in San Francisco.

From that point I ventured, having basically no direction, and I ended up at the Egger Memorial Open Space, which is in the Bernal Heights area of SF. The EMOS, as we will call it, is little more than a section of hill that never got turned for a house. I has a quaint view of the downtown, and I ate hummus and a bagel whilst gazing upon the incomplete Sales Force Tower; I am not impressed by the building. The Transamerica Pyramid is by far my favorite building in the financial district, and thus my favorite skyscraper in the city. After my small picnic I headed for a close bus stop, and I rode the 12 for nearly an hour, well past my stop, and ended up in Nob Hill. From there I walked east, the direction the bus had come, until I reached the Green Tortoise Hostel.

I stuck around the hostel for dinner, and well past that. I sat on the steps outside shooting the shit with some folks until the cold became too much of a nuisance. I walked to the Montgomery BART station, passed through the Embarcadero, spent 4.5 minutes underwater, and then walked the three minutes back to my house. I then spent 7 hours on the phone, and some of that time was spent sleeping. That’s the end of my story.

Chris. 12.21.17

MMJ, and the following day

On Monday December 18th, I got my medical marijuana card in the state of California. It is easier than getting your girlfriend pregnant. It is streamlined, and it is a comfortable process. I used NuggMD, a website and online physician service. The entire process from “I’m going to look into getting my medical card today,” all the way to: “That was easier than I thought,” took about 30 minutes. Holy shit, I know, only 30 minutes from Google search to Gmail confirmation. That’s the future of marijuana, for you Wisconsinites showing love to a local, reading his blog.

So I obtained my MMJ recommendation, could immediately have ganja delivered to my house, and will receive a paper copy of my recommendation in a few days’ time, as I have yet to receive it. I did all this with a picture of my Wisconsin Driver’s license that, lowkey, is suspended from a DUI until February.

The remainder of my Monday was occupied with work around the property on which I live, followed by a trip to the Green Tortoise Hostel, where I work, for dinner. There I met a man with some potent and foot-fungus-odor-having cannabis. It is now Wednesday, and I have yet to use the medical card.

Ohad, Janie, and Ofir.

Tuesday was another eventful day, as I obtained my first piece of HeartofZeus merchandise: a black t-shirt with white lettering. The shirt I had made at a place called Bang-On, which is on Haight street in SF. I was very pleased with the service, and the custom shirts they make and sell at the shop are fucking phenomenal. They also have a fairly premium supply of vintage gear, but that’s not a world of fashion I choose to indulge in. The sad truth however, is that purchasing my merchandise online might be the only logical solution to the logistical issue a small time blogger like me is of course going to incur, but I will let you know how my next merch purchase goes. Check my Instagram to find me wearing the afore mentioned HeartofZeus T-Shirt all over the Bay Area!

Tuesday night I also made it to the hostel for dinner, where I met up with two friends and made a third. Ofir made dinner after concluding from a bout of sickness. He’s the one who’s face you can’t see in the picture. Sorry about that Ofir, but it was still the best of the pictures. Ohad is my coworker, and Janie left to return to Montreal last night after this meal. Everyday at the Green Tortoise Hostel is a unique and interesting experience.

That concludes my short update, and thank you for taking the time. More to come soon! Including a new section devoted to the many artists I know. You can expect it slowly, then all at once.

Chris. 12.20.17

Seattle to: San Francisco

Halloween in San Francisco.

I am proud to announce I have settled into San Francisco, California. A mere five months ago my imagination did not comprise of what my reality has manifested. If I am one of the few who reach the stars, grasping fully my dreams instead of remaining inert, know it began with shedding the idea of normality.

I arrived in San Francisco, California on Halloween having left Seattle, Washington two days prior. My trip was laden rich with absurdities, as I traveled aboard a Green Tortoise Bus, piloted by a lady named Paige. I spent one night in Eugene, Oregon, hometown of the lady afore mentioned. Only a true literary artesian could put that town into words. I can’t say I am prepared, but I will certainly try.

The town of Eugene reminded me slightly of my hometown of Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin, in as much as they are both quaint places. Entertainment and nocturnal activities bustle not in the latter though. My only night in Eugene I saw what will probably be the greatest burlesque show of my life at a bar by the name of Luckeys. The show began and ended with a teddy bear of a man; pink, porcelain, and wielding the confidence of a superhero. The acts varied, as it was their Halloween show, and also their 14th anniversary. That night folks were taking the limit, and ignoring the shit out of it. Without a doubt, I got my five dollars’ worth.

We caught some rest at Paige’s mother house, and it was very hospitable for her to host me on such an occasion; I easily could have slept on the bus. I am thankful for the home I was able to spend the night in. Plus I got to hang out with this ultra-cool and cute dog named Bella. Prior to the burlesque show, and the resting of our eyes, there was the feasting of food. We ate at a restaurant called P.R.I. which is short for Pizza Research Institute. The pizza was extremely unique, and also delicious. I don’t quite recall the concoction Paige and her close-knit associates ordered, however I will not take this suggestion lightly: I should make it back to P.R.I. when they have the Pad Thai pizza.

I saw enough to give me a slight inkling of what life on the daily might be like for the folks of Eugene. I can honestly say it is a place I would live. It’s the biggest little city in the world, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some Oregonian eventually brought that famous sign north to where it belongs these days. A comforting place to wake up, that’s how I must describe Eugene.

Back on the road we were. Neither too late nor too early was the night at Luckeys, so the morning remained the same. We left on schedule. We would not arrive on schedule, but let me tell you a secret. That’s what the Green Tortoise Adventure Travel company is all about.

As I sit writing, the originator of that company sleeps soundly in the only other occupied room in this house. The house where I live. He is simply checking out the comfort level, so am I; it is the first night in the house for both of us. However, only I will continue my occupancy for the foreseeable future. My boss is a gracious man, and it provides a comforting faith in my employer when he is prepared to subject himself to my similar confines, even though he is not a young man anymore. There is no reason he shouldn’t have slept at his home last night, but I appreciate his company and blessing as I embark upon the next leg of my journey, which is life.

Paige, and the bus.

I digress…
We awoke. After a small breakfast and some goodbyes, Paige took her throne at the head of the bus. We were off. Now she would be ushering me into the wilderness to surmount and scale giant boulders, something I was wholly unfamiliar with up until this point. The excursion had us meeting up with a gentleman by the name of Alejandro, a friend of Paige’s, and now a friend of mine. We fuddled around in the Oregonian wood for quite some time. I observed the scaling. Titan chunks of earth domesticated by humanity. Obstacles swept aside as Paige and Alejandro surmounted mentally, and then physically. I climbed a tiny rock, claiming my small victory which I enjoyed graciously. It was a dire needed trip into the forest, and only the Green Tortoise could have provided such an extravaganza.

After the rock climbing we returned to the bus and continued for 10 more hours until we finally arrived in San Francisco. Part of that was nap time, as sleep is acclimated ever so well to the wanderlust. Paige dropped me off in front of the Green Tortoise Hostel, and I forgot to take a picture of the bus. Just like I forgot to take a picture of the bus when she picked me up. At least I was able to fuck something up on that journey.