11/25/08
Quantum of Solace, more a continuation than a sequel, requires comparison to a predecessor. Rather than worry about the dichotomy, it chooses to overwhelming follow the patterns set by Casino Royale. The world it takes place in features morality is reflected by the lack of perfect rejoinders and smooth characters, and poise. The evolution of identity was worth ducking out of work early to see.
“When the other person not only makes you feel insecure but actually seems to want to destroy you, it's obviously the end. The Quantum of Solace stands at zero. You've got to get away to save yourself."
“When the other person not only makes you feel insecure but actually seems to want to destroy you, it's obviously the end. The Quantum of Solace stands at zero. You've got to get away to save yourself."
11/24/08
First rule about being a guy: don’t neglect the needs of the girl you’re in bed with.
Always have an exit strategy: flee the state, call in a favor, give a fake name, coopt the innocent. Lay and lie: put things in place.
You seriously believed me? Wow. You believed the we’re-friends-again part too, didn’t you.
Always have an exit strategy: flee the state, call in a favor, give a fake name, coopt the innocent. Lay and lie: put things in place.
You seriously believed me? Wow. You believed the we’re-friends-again part too, didn’t you.
11/23/08
Friends will be there when you’re not; invite you to their party; leave their own party to pick you up when stranded; loan you 2 boxers for a brief visit; shake your hand and pull you out; thank you with a kiss, a pineapple, and here’s my phone number; and don’t say hurtful things to each other.
“Say what you need to say…”
“Say what you need to say…”
11/22/08
It’s miserable to realize that if the past 2 hours had been spent doing laundry instead of at the career center, at least some of my life would have gotten in order. It’s depressing to then spend the next 2 hours failing at the laundry.
Disrobe, lie bare, and let the naked truth be exposed in the bitter cold of the impending winter.
The ditch by the side of the road called. It wants to know where I was last night.
Disrobe, lie bare, and let the naked truth be exposed in the bitter cold of the impending winter.
The ditch by the side of the road called. It wants to know where I was last night.
11/21/08
11/20/08
I like whimsy and creativity.
I like nostalgia. So I can be, ‘Hey, it's rabite but pink! Aw, I remember rabite.’.
Yeah, I'm like, ‘Seriously? Killer purple fluffy mushroom? Yeah, you barely eked by with that one the first time around, Squaresoft.’.
It would be neat if real life were like that. Like there's a blonde you somewhere out there, and later on, a pink-haired one.
The Pure Land is the last beautiful place you go to; a lingering beauty in a sea of ugly, where one cannot go back to.
I like nostalgia. So I can be, ‘Hey, it's rabite but pink! Aw, I remember rabite.’.
Yeah, I'm like, ‘Seriously? Killer purple fluffy mushroom? Yeah, you barely eked by with that one the first time around, Squaresoft.’.
It would be neat if real life were like that. Like there's a blonde you somewhere out there, and later on, a pink-haired one.
The Pure Land is the last beautiful place you go to; a lingering beauty in a sea of ugly, where one cannot go back to.
11/19/08
Pyramid, already a clever game, is elegant because the Winner’s Circle round is not merely an exciting bonus round, but a built-up tapering of the prior round. In the earlier round, clues must be given for things in a category to be guessed. In the later round, things must be given for a category to be guessed.
There are 2 types of gameshows: Those I know from GSN, and those I admit to watching.
There are 2 types of gameshows: Those I know from GSN, and those I admit to watching.
11/15/08
11/14/08
11/13/08
11/12/08
Lack of control is the stamp of nightmare, be it creator unable to control creation or individual at the mercy of an inevitable higher power.
11/11/08
Veterans.
1) Overcharging students
2) Putting subliminal messages in endcap signs
3) That obnoxious buyback woman who sighs, and whines about everything, and demands to speak to someone about how outrageous it is that we aren't giving her more money, and just has a thoroughly unpleasant attitude- every single semester
4) The poltergeist in the Architecture section that always messes up the books there no matter how often you straighten
5) Destroying books and magazines in front of customers
6) ActiveDirectory
7) Finding invoices
8) Plotting to annex GM, enslave their workers, pillage their merchandise
9) Nibbling on candy, then putting it back so no one notices
10) Slack-off-Sundays
11) Getting M[] in trouble
1) Overcharging students
2) Putting subliminal messages in endcap signs
3) That obnoxious buyback woman who sighs, and whines about everything, and demands to speak to someone about how outrageous it is that we aren't giving her more money, and just has a thoroughly unpleasant attitude- every single semester
4) The poltergeist in the Architecture section that always messes up the books there no matter how often you straighten
5) Destroying books and magazines in front of customers
6) ActiveDirectory
7) Finding invoices
8) Plotting to annex GM, enslave their workers, pillage their merchandise
9) Nibbling on candy, then putting it back so no one notices
10) Slack-off-Sundays
11) Getting M[] in trouble
11/10/08
11/9/08
11/8/08
So Rent is 3 Musketeers?
But the question is, what’s the Snickers?
Fight Club?
No, Fight Club’s the Milky Way. Snickers is Candy.
Candy is not even mostly a drug. It’s a relationship, albeit just as addictive.
Heaven is being together and happy.
Earth is being together and miserable.
Hell is being apart because you’ve realized that you can’t be happy together.
But the question is, what’s the Snickers?
Fight Club?
No, Fight Club’s the Milky Way. Snickers is Candy.
Candy is not even mostly a drug. It’s a relationship, albeit just as addictive.
Heaven is being together and happy.
Earth is being together and miserable.
Hell is being apart because you’ve realized that you can’t be happy together.
11/6/08
11/5/08
“We've been waiting all our lives / For things we've always had…”
I woke up this morning someplace new. The sun was shining. I reached for my glasses. The right side was broken; it had broken sometime last night.
“…But have no eyes to see…”
A beautiful woman appeared before me, telling me how I got here and what had happened; and apologizing for how she couldn’t stay and how she had things she needed to go do now.
“…Something new is going to happen / The most natural thing / But nothing we'd expect…”
There was a note above me:
“Obama is President.
(Feel free to sleep here)”
“…All these buildings and mountains…”
I woke up this morning someplace new. The sun was shining. I reached for my glasses. The right side was broken; it had broken sometime last night.
“…But have no eyes to see…”
A beautiful woman appeared before me, telling me how I got here and what had happened; and apologizing for how she couldn’t stay and how she had things she needed to go do now.
“…Something new is going to happen / The most natural thing / But nothing we'd expect…”
There was a note above me:
“Obama is President.
(Feel free to sleep here)”
“…All these buildings and mountains…”
11/4/08
[Feed the starving pollworkers! Anyone willing to bring food to Glenridge Elementary can earn serious awesome points.]
No one even has a pro-McCain argument any more. The best they can do is anti-Obama.
The tragedy of this campaign is how greatest strengths are greatest weaknesses.
The salvation of this election is how greatest weaknesses are greatest strengths.
“Yes we can…”
No one even has a pro-McCain argument any more. The best they can do is anti-Obama.
The tragedy of this campaign is how greatest strengths are greatest weaknesses.
The salvation of this election is how greatest weaknesses are greatest strengths.
“Yes we can…”
11/3/08
11/2/08
11/1/08
10/31/08
I’m a Stoic/I’m not a Stoic
Didn’t find what I needed/Got what I wanted
Carried away should be/Never get carried away should be
Pirates vs. Caesar, the Republic in the balance. Go over a bridge, through a wall, from fire to ice, turn neither left nor right, out the passenger door in the left turn lane, say hello, say goodbye, explain tomorrow, live for the chaos wherever/wear-ever/we’re ever chance might take.
“And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding…”
Didn’t find what I needed/Got what I wanted
Carried away should be/Never get carried away should be
Pirates vs. Caesar, the Republic in the balance. Go over a bridge, through a wall, from fire to ice, turn neither left nor right, out the passenger door in the left turn lane, say hello, say goodbye, explain tomorrow, live for the chaos wherever/wear-ever/we’re ever chance might take.
“And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding…”
10/30/08
The annoying thing about translating Greek poetry is that it has too many nouns whose nuance is struggled to be found until the professor reveals that, actually, it’s a name, so that you hate that person for having a stupid name, but with them already being so dead that you're translating their funerary epigraph, what can you do.
The dreams of happiness? The dreams of sweet?
The dreams of some creature named Felix.
The dreams of happiness? The dreams of sweet?
The dreams of some creature named Felix.
10/29/08
You have a Voice. I like that.
Easiest assignment ever- took zero time. Woke up, printed xanga entry, handed in.
It's weird just how much of English class is teachers trying to drum voice out of you. Then you get to the real world and discover that the trick is to find yourself.
1st: italics
2nd: bold
3rd: quoted
My voice doesn’t say whom.
Easiest assignment ever- took zero time. Woke up, printed xanga entry, handed in.
It's weird just how much of English class is teachers trying to drum voice out of you. Then you get to the real world and discover that the trick is to find yourself.
1st: italics
2nd: bold
3rd: quoted
My voice doesn’t say whom.
10/28/08
10/27/08
10/26/08
Ob’ession
I am very good at writing very bad poetry.
Blue daffodils of silence in a field of crimson drear’,
Virgil, attest to
Nothing
And turn to mine lonely voided plate, 'pon which lay
A thought
Of
The salmon roll, with ricelets hung dropped from seaweed sheath
Askew in throat, wherein the missing plaint,
“O Featherbottom! Hamilton! Virgil! Four!”
Ricochet back down my trachea-“Sir Piddlesworth Uppington Smythe, please pass the wasabi.”
I am very good at writing very bad poetry.
Blue daffodils of silence in a field of crimson drear’,
Virgil, attest to
Nothing
And turn to mine lonely voided plate, 'pon which lay
A thought
Of
The salmon roll, with ricelets hung dropped from seaweed sheath
Askew in throat, wherein the missing plaint,
“O Featherbottom! Hamilton! Virgil! Four!”
Ricochet back down my trachea-“Sir Piddlesworth Uppington Smythe, please pass the wasabi.”
10/25/08
10/24/08
10/23/08
“Millennium…”
It’s amazing how little and how much of the world can change from one glimpse to the next.
(The best I’ve found is Paris Hilton.)
“…We all enjoy the madness ‘cause we know we're gonna fade away…”
It’s amazing how little and how much of the world can change from one glimpse to the next.
(The best I’ve found is Paris Hilton.)
“…We all enjoy the madness ‘cause we know we're gonna fade away…”
10/20/08
10/19/08
Searching for meaning in an Oliver Stone movie about George W. Bush should only be done for the sake of rampant overanalysis. The film has a focus-losing hodgepodge that it more amusing for the real-life moments it recalls than for what is actually presented on screen. The film seems to lack any other artistic or thematic purpose until perhaps the final scene, revealing that George W. Bush isn’t a tragic figure at all. For, while the film does explore the myriad of options, he lacks a tragic flaw; thus, it’s instead a farce.
10/18/08
10/17/08
There is no problem with delving into illogic and abandoning whatever point was actually supposed to be argued, if there is the opportunity to establish something tangential more aesthetic, be it an admission of the acceptability of lying, or simply an ironic statement regarding the divine.
10/16/08
When the urge to *run* without regard to destination is felt, there are 3 kinds of places to flee to:
1) To a generic location.
2) To a foreign culture.
3) As far away as possible.
Essentially: Columbus, Madrid, New Zealand.
[This list could include the base case: 0) Out of sight, which corresponds to Inside.]
1) To a generic location.
2) To a foreign culture.
3) As far away as possible.
Essentially: Columbus, Madrid, New Zealand.
[This list could include the base case: 0) Out of sight, which corresponds to Inside.]
10/15/08
10/14/08
10/13/08
How geos?
I'm writing an autobiography. I started yesterday.
Oh?! That's awesome. Don't forget the part where mom and dad adopted you from a moose farm.
I'm old enough to finally know?
I guess so, yes.
How geos with you?
I'm applying to culinary school.
Don't forget the part where mom and dad taught you how to grill moose.
Oh, they told you that was moose? It was your second brother. They didn't like him much.
He needed more salt.
I agree. Maybe some curry?
Thai together.
“What’s the difference between green curry and red curry?”
“You could ask the waitress.”
That’s one option. Or, you could go out, get an iPhone, and look it up online.
I'm writing an autobiography. I started yesterday.
Oh?! That's awesome. Don't forget the part where mom and dad adopted you from a moose farm.
I'm old enough to finally know?
I guess so, yes.
How geos with you?
I'm applying to culinary school.
Don't forget the part where mom and dad taught you how to grill moose.
Oh, they told you that was moose? It was your second brother. They didn't like him much.
He needed more salt.
I agree. Maybe some curry?
Thai together.
“What’s the difference between green curry and red curry?”
“You could ask the waitress.”
That’s one option. Or, you could go out, get an iPhone, and look it up online.
10/11/08
10/10/08
The wonder of the Internet’s time-wasting potential is encapsulated in an Office throwaway joke about a youtube video involving Cookie Monster singing Chocolate Rain.
When humanity fails, at least we'll have theoretical physics.
“Some have skipped humanity entirely to move straight to theoretical physics.”
When humanity fails, at least we'll have theoretical physics.
“Some have skipped humanity entirely to move straight to theoretical physics.”
10/9/08
10/7/08
10/5/08
Flash of Genius switches between 3 different genres, almost abruptly: documentary, psychological drama, and legal thriller. The ending is depressing in how it doesn’t deviate from what one would ordinarily expect, but it does reinforce the everyman quality of its hero/the prototypical inventor. The film is not without irony, that the subject’s popular recognition will come not only posthumously, but without his control.
10/4/08
10/2/08
“It's all been done before…”
This election needed to be between past and future, not between political parties. Unfortunately, both futures won their primaries; post-convention, the conflict is dominated by the past. Whoever wins will owe their victory to what they should have been fighting against.
There needs to be debate, but instead rich DC middleaged/oldfolk sit around a table after the feast, in candlelit darkness with the power out, arguing about what went wrong. There is the tragedy of our era. It’s not that things are changing; it’s that things have, and none of who need to realize do.
I’ve already recovered my key. All I can do is watch nostalgically as a 1-term inexperienced governor and a loquacious senator come to town.
This election needed to be between past and future, not between political parties. Unfortunately, both futures won their primaries; post-convention, the conflict is dominated by the past. Whoever wins will owe their victory to what they should have been fighting against.
There needs to be debate, but instead rich DC middleaged/oldfolk sit around a table after the feast, in candlelit darkness with the power out, arguing about what went wrong. There is the tragedy of our era. It’s not that things are changing; it’s that things have, and none of who need to realize do.
I’ve already recovered my key. All I can do is watch nostalgically as a 1-term inexperienced governor and a loquacious senator come to town.
10/1/08
[profile temporarily utilized for space]
“…I met a girl who sang the blues / And I asked her for some happy news / But she just smiled and turned away…”
I chose between true and love, and not only was it not my choice, not only didn’t I make it, but I chose wrong. I erred more than can be explained, and probably more than I can ever hope to be forgiven for. The realization of the flaws behind the tragedy doesn’t help the character who still feels the pain of having taken something alive and felt the life squeezed away.
“…I went down to the sacred store / Where I’d heard the music years before / But the man there said the music wouldn’t play…”
I have never been ambitious, content to merely do as I do and let things proceed as they proceed. Stoicism may be a trap, but it is a pleasant one; for there I had everything I ever wanted: lost, found, and regained- everything save time. And does one say to the victorious de Leon, but now what?
“…But not a word was spoken…”
Goodbye, truth: you are a glorious incarnation, but I am not yours, and weren’t ever. I tell people I’m a pathological liar. They still don’t believe me.
“…The three men I admire most…”
I am 3 people: who I was, who I became, and who I will be.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
“…I met a girl who sang the blues / And I asked her for some happy news / But she just smiled and turned away…”
I chose between true and love, and not only was it not my choice, not only didn’t I make it, but I chose wrong. I erred more than can be explained, and probably more than I can ever hope to be forgiven for. The realization of the flaws behind the tragedy doesn’t help the character who still feels the pain of having taken something alive and felt the life squeezed away.
“…I went down to the sacred store / Where I’d heard the music years before / But the man there said the music wouldn’t play…”
I have never been ambitious, content to merely do as I do and let things proceed as they proceed. Stoicism may be a trap, but it is a pleasant one; for there I had everything I ever wanted: lost, found, and regained- everything save time. And does one say to the victorious de Leon, but now what?
“…But not a word was spoken…”
Goodbye, truth: you are a glorious incarnation, but I am not yours, and weren’t ever. I tell people I’m a pathological liar. They still don’t believe me.
“…The three men I admire most…”
I am 3 people: who I was, who I became, and who I will be.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
9/30/08
[profile temporarily utilized for space]
“…Helter-skelter in a summer swelter / The birds flew off…”
Out of the nest, into the air, and how sweet the whirlwind is in which my wings will spread.
“…We all got up to dance / Oh, but we never got the chance... ”
It will never be perfect, but I will show up and see what happens. Why not try; at the very least, I will have fun.
“…There we were all in one place / A generation lost…”
And I will get to share it. I will need you to know how sorry I am for what happened. How much I owe you, how much I promised myself, more than will genuinely be said. The guilt over how I chose my own insanity instead of supporting you is not something I think I will forgive myself for. My consolation will be in how you are a stronger person than I am, was, or will be.
“…With no time left to start again…”
With already everything I wanted, what will I go to? No matter what I find, what I will have left will have changed by the time I return. Yet I will go anyhow. With so much to do, and unable to go back, I will only close my eyes and run, and hopefully push through before out of air.
“…My hands were clenched in fists of rage…”
Friendship is a valuable commodity, to give trust that will allow one to trust, to grasp another’s hand in one’s own, and thereby will be led where one could not go alone. The right word will make truth beauty; the wrong word will reveal ugliness.
Friendship is a terrible power, especially for those who will not respect it.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
“…Helter-skelter in a summer swelter / The birds flew off…”
Out of the nest, into the air, and how sweet the whirlwind is in which my wings will spread.
“…We all got up to dance / Oh, but we never got the chance... ”
It will never be perfect, but I will show up and see what happens. Why not try; at the very least, I will have fun.
“…There we were all in one place / A generation lost…”
And I will get to share it. I will need you to know how sorry I am for what happened. How much I owe you, how much I promised myself, more than will genuinely be said. The guilt over how I chose my own insanity instead of supporting you is not something I think I will forgive myself for. My consolation will be in how you are a stronger person than I am, was, or will be.
“…With no time left to start again…”
With already everything I wanted, what will I go to? No matter what I find, what I will have left will have changed by the time I return. Yet I will go anyhow. With so much to do, and unable to go back, I will only close my eyes and run, and hopefully push through before out of air.
“…My hands were clenched in fists of rage…”
Friendship is a valuable commodity, to give trust that will allow one to trust, to grasp another’s hand in one’s own, and thereby will be led where one could not go alone. The right word will make truth beauty; the wrong word will reveal ugliness.
Friendship is a terrible power, especially for those who will not respect it.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
9/29/08
[profile temporarily utilized for space]
“…Now for 10 years we’ve been on our own…”
One Monday in September everything changes.
“…A voice that came from you and me…”
My greatest fear is that the same thing that happened to me would happen to you, that as I crashed you would fall.
The fear is unfounded. You are strong, stronger than I am.
“…The courtroom was adjourned…”
I can’t go back. Independence is always important, but now it is everything I could have. I shun what I cannot do, until I only need what I can.
“…No verdict was returned…”
I’m still not completely sure what caused the beginning, nor the end. I’m honestly not sure what help you were. But for trying most genuinely, I thank you.
“…And we sang dirges in the dark…”
No one else can understand, no one else can hear. Mourning for a lost life leads to lyrics of madness. There is finally found independence- but the price is isolation.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
“…Now for 10 years we’ve been on our own…”
One Monday in September everything changes.
“…A voice that came from you and me…”
My greatest fear is that the same thing that happened to me would happen to you, that as I crashed you would fall.
The fear is unfounded. You are strong, stronger than I am.
“…The courtroom was adjourned…”
I can’t go back. Independence is always important, but now it is everything I could have. I shun what I cannot do, until I only need what I can.
“…No verdict was returned…”
I’m still not completely sure what caused the beginning, nor the end. I’m honestly not sure what help you were. But for trying most genuinely, I thank you.
“…And we sang dirges in the dark…”
No one else can understand, no one else can hear. Mourning for a lost life leads to lyrics of madness. There is finally found independence- but the price is isolation.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie... ”
9/28/08
[profile temporarily utilized for space]
“A long, long time ago / I can still remember / How that music used to make me smile…”
Once I lived a life and heard a song, and kept coming back to where I had been captivated by it. I learned its lyrics and taught them, finding meaning and poetry, and hidden meaning, and discovery, and a clever crescendo, epic and grand and unique. I found harmony, and it was pleasing.
“…I knew if I had my chance / That I could make those people dance…”
Ideas brewed in my head. I had a story to tell, but I didn’t yet understand it. In the meantime, characters and stories evolved without my control. Laslo Bleem was born.
“…I couldn’t take one more step…”
I had what I wanted, I was who I wanted, I did what I wanted. I had found my limit, within which things were perfect, and I was rising, like the sea seen arising endlessly over an endless horizon.
“…I can’t remember if I cried…”
I regretted the elm tree I didn’t climb, the roads not wandered, the heartfelt missive whose reply came after the moment passed. When did numbness cease, and pain awaken?
“…Well, I know that you’re in love…”
I once knew a girl who had flowing blonde hair and a light lilting laugh, who read Calvin & Hobbes, spoke Latin, sang Lobachevsky, appreciated poetry; who constructed abstract sculptures from discarded disks, who perched on rooftops, who ran in the autumn rain; who named herself after a Greek letter and a mathematical constant. She was Phi, she was perfect.
I never had a chance with her. I never will.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie...”
“A long, long time ago / I can still remember / How that music used to make me smile…”
Once I lived a life and heard a song, and kept coming back to where I had been captivated by it. I learned its lyrics and taught them, finding meaning and poetry, and hidden meaning, and discovery, and a clever crescendo, epic and grand and unique. I found harmony, and it was pleasing.
“…I knew if I had my chance / That I could make those people dance…”
Ideas brewed in my head. I had a story to tell, but I didn’t yet understand it. In the meantime, characters and stories evolved without my control. Laslo Bleem was born.
“…I couldn’t take one more step…”
I had what I wanted, I was who I wanted, I did what I wanted. I had found my limit, within which things were perfect, and I was rising, like the sea seen arising endlessly over an endless horizon.
“…I can’t remember if I cried…”
I regretted the elm tree I didn’t climb, the roads not wandered, the heartfelt missive whose reply came after the moment passed. When did numbness cease, and pain awaken?
“…Well, I know that you’re in love…”
I once knew a girl who had flowing blonde hair and a light lilting laugh, who read Calvin & Hobbes, spoke Latin, sang Lobachevsky, appreciated poetry; who constructed abstract sculptures from discarded disks, who perched on rooftops, who ran in the autumn rain; who named herself after a Greek letter and a mathematical constant. She was Phi, she was perfect.
I never had a chance with her. I never will.
“…Bye-bye, Miss American Pie...”
9/27/08
“I was convinced an Obama/McCain campaign would be measurably different on almost all standards. And to watch it become Bush/Kerry, Bush/Gore, has been one of the most dissatisfying experiences.”
“That means it's not an Obama/McCain campaign. It's a Guys Who Work for Bush/Guys Who Work for Kerry campaign.”
The hardest part of any party is the planning.
“Partisan politics saps all the productivity out of debate.”
Partisan politics saps all the productivity out of production.
“That means it's not an Obama/McCain campaign. It's a Guys Who Work for Bush/Guys Who Work for Kerry campaign.”
The hardest part of any party is the planning.
“Partisan politics saps all the productivity out of debate.”
Partisan politics saps all the productivity out of production.
9/25/08
9/24/08
“Some people will not tolerate such emotional honesty in communication. They would rather defend their dishonesty on the grounds that it might hurt others. Therefore, having rationalized their phoniness into nobility, they settle for superficial relationships.”
The question is not whether you would prefer I assent to your idea or say what I honestly feel, but what I do.
“Is it emotionally dishonest to then, instead of speaking, say nothing at all?”
“The cruelest lies are often told in silence.”
The question is not whether you would prefer I assent to your idea or say what I honestly feel, but what I do.
“Is it emotionally dishonest to then, instead of speaking, say nothing at all?”
“The cruelest lies are often told in silence.”
9/23/08
9/21/08
“Strumming my pain…”
Some things are bitter, fomenting up what surprisingly should have been expected, with a resonating distaste being brewed.
“…I heard he had a style / And so I came to see him to listen…”
Some things are sweet, heralding a day and a year and a lifetime in which a resonating joy can be exquisitely basked in, with sparkling eyes, akin minds, and a cool breeze on the cusp of summer and autumn.
“…Telling my whole life with his words…”
I need you to know this, that I know how special you are, that I trust you more than anyone else, more than I deserve. It’s not just that you’ve grown up; it’s that you enabled me to.
“…You guys sound great, awesome…”
Some things are bitter, fomenting up what surprisingly should have been expected, with a resonating distaste being brewed.
“…I heard he had a style / And so I came to see him to listen…”
Some things are sweet, heralding a day and a year and a lifetime in which a resonating joy can be exquisitely basked in, with sparkling eyes, akin minds, and a cool breeze on the cusp of summer and autumn.
“…Telling my whole life with his words…”
I need you to know this, that I know how special you are, that I trust you more than anyone else, more than I deserve. It’s not just that you’ve grown up; it’s that you enabled me to.
“…You guys sound great, awesome…”
9/20/08
9/19/08
9/16/08
9/15/08
9/14/08
9/13/08
“My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why / I got out…”
Appreciation is the presence of an absence of a presence. It acknowledges that something is done which might not be done, something which another might not do, something that need not be acknowledged but is. For everyone has a choice for how they spend their time. The thankless task gets done because the doer enjoys it, not because of any degree of gratitude. It should be enough to receive satisfaction from oneself, from how the time was used; but when instead dissatisfaction turns to despair, with time not being spent how one would want, there can be a restoration by merely not not doing something.
“…And I want to thank you…”
Appreciation is the presence of an absence of a presence. It acknowledges that something is done which might not be done, something which another might not do, something that need not be acknowledged but is. For everyone has a choice for how they spend their time. The thankless task gets done because the doer enjoys it, not because of any degree of gratitude. It should be enough to receive satisfaction from oneself, from how the time was used; but when instead dissatisfaction turns to despair, with time not being spent how one would want, there can be a restoration by merely not not doing something.
“…And I want to thank you…”
9/12/08
9/10/08
9/8/08
9/6/08
9/5/08
9/4/08
9/1/08
In a previous Away Message, I explained my use of third person plural for indefinite singulars. Let third person singular also be used alternatively; as the gendered pronoun in place of a neuter indicates familiarity, so let a neuter used in place of a gendered indicates a diminutive.
In the instance of animals, the third singular has ambiguity: an animal has natural gender, but lacks the type of linguistic sentience which allows first or second singular forms without anthropomorphizing. Thus,, let the third singular neuter be used.
A neutered pet is just a double coincidence.
In the instance of animals, the third singular has ambiguity: an animal has natural gender, but lacks the type of linguistic sentience which allows first or second singular forms without anthropomorphizing. Thus,, let the third singular neuter be used.
A neutered pet is just a double coincidence.
8/31/08
8/30/08
8/29/08
8/28/08
8/25/08
Once when I was little, eating at CPK, I wanted an ice cream sundae for dessert. My parents consented, provided I shared it with my father. I agreed, only to discover that I was left only the dregs of hot fudge, with my father taking his portion first, claiming nearly all of the ice cream. The traumatic experience taught me early on how difficult sharing can be.
Sharing is still difficult.
Sharing is still difficult.
8/22/08
8/18/08
8/13/08
8/11/08
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