Sunday, August 24, 2008

"a href="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/hongop.shtml"> Jesus Christ.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The natural tendency of any human being is to take up the middle of the bed. This should not be looked upon with resentment, for each and every one of us might take on this tack in the innocent and unconscious state of sleep.

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Can we all agree at least that everything's connected?

I believe we all are one, a perpetually recycled consciousness left to many subjectivities all at once.

That at least is beautiful to me. "I" and "we" would be synonyms.

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In writing, we translate the infinite data of our universe into something receivable by the human mind. The process molds and shapes the intangible essence into tangible, parseable components making up a weave of thuses and therefores that creates our very existence. In writing, we sort chaos into order and further the entropy of everything.

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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

A compulsion to write, to publish online even if it is nonsensical or noone ever reads it. A compulsion to add sentence fragments to an ever-growing logosphere, to add data to a widening datastream. Soon it shall be a torrent, a downpour of information perhaps too overwhelming to be anything but static, the noise of rain.

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I dreamt of being led into a room that held a man and two goons. The goons had been nano-enhanced somehow, and their heads grew spikes and their hands grew spiky claws, like porcupine spikes but black and metallic and shiny. The goons were used to intimidate me, but I was intrigued rather than frightened. In that moment I gained their power. I didn't become them subjectively, but since I am all characters in my dreams I became sympathetic to them and gained a kind of control. While I could only somewhat alter the course of events in the dream, it seemed to be following a scheme that I myself had designed but was not aware of.

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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Goddamn, sometimes I sound crazy.
But PK Dick tells me, see
We all are one eternally.

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New Event

The writer is allowed to see
Differences, genetographically
but worlds of quantumality
Are considered very differently
When space is time and time is space
And both combined take one great plane
And all the wheres and all the whens
Occur together spontaneously
That's when I'll see
That's when I won't be crazy.

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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

A glass of water, a glass of wine
And I, in waiting, bide my time
Against decisions, things of life
I wish would never come to pass
Of age, responsibility
New changes following old plans


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Oh Hell, oh damn
I'm growing old today
Amongst the youth, long in the tooth
I look insane,
Unsanitary.

My hair is long and greasy-grown
My nails are dirty too
I've kept myself unkemptily
To protest time as it goes on
And beg it please oh please oh please
To let me catch my breath.

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Oh Hell, oh damn
I look insane
Unsanitary.

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Some things
Some times
Are mine, all mine

Some things
Some times
Some times
Some times
Nonsense.

I am and ever was
Pursuing down the only way
Nonsense.

No path, no change
No time of day
Could take the place
Of anything

No time could tell
Or would, or might
Of things undone and trials left
Abandoned, given up to fantasy
Those things are buried, ancient.

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Monday, August 11, 2008

This time
As beautiful
As you
Is part of all
Of everything
Of every smile
Of every child
Again, again

With open eyes
As we all smile
To brightest sun
In sky of blue
To think of me
Says "think of you"
When nothing can feel
Of dances young.

The waress was tall
Oh yah
Oh yah

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Sunday, August 10, 2008

As the bus drives past a highrise construction site I imagine some sort of building material crashing into the roof from hundreds of feet up. I imagine this as a meteor strike, as some sort of Extinction Event. This scenario could go a couple of different ways. I could be killed instantly- not my preferred option. I could be greviously wounded but not killed, an event that would change my life enormously by requiring time in the hospital and rehabilitation, thusly derailing my half-laid plans. Or I could be left unharmed and exhilirated by the experience, put into my preferred position as an observer of life but not an actor. In this scenario nothing would change for me. I am already the observer. The experience would be only another story of someone else's life and I would write much the same thing as I am now, when it is only something from my imagination.

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Thursday, August 7, 2008

Ugh. Mornings without coffee are miserable things. I need my energy brewed, thank you, and poured into steamed milk. I slept late today and my latte was denied to me by a long line and an overwhelming impulse to be particularly punctual.

The bus going to the airport carries an interesting group of people. I'm not going to the airport but am instead getting off at the last stop before the freeway. I work in the scenic SoDo district, right across the street from a recycling plant that smells like some sort of refinery, like a factory that turns horse and cow hooves into glue.

The people who stay on the bus after I get off are all going to the airport. They carry their luggage and generally try to nap in their seats. A disproportionate percentage of them are Asian. The people who get off the bus in SoDo smell bad sometimes, are loud and rude generally, and smoke more often than not. They have no money and were raised with no money. Some of them have prison tattoes. They have jobs down here at least, but jobs that will get them no further than another month's rent and a carton of cigarettes.

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Wednesday, August 6, 2008

I love the pervasive public privacy worshipped in Seattle. The rudest people in my everyday life are those who intrude upon me in any way, with their loud voices or their body odor or- god forbid- by physically contacting me. The privacy of any individual in a public environment is sacred. This privacy is wonderfully facilitated
by the iPod and the iPhone. By closing off the auditory portion of potential interaction, the level of public privacy increases tenfold. Every day is made more manageable by this small closing off of an avenue of interaction. The other senses are all that's left to eliminate before true social harmony can be achieved. While sight is relatively essential to moving around and being productive in day to day life, perhaps touch can be eliminated from interaction. Specially designed suits could make it so that individuals could feel things in a public environment only for entertainment. I'll let your mind consider the ramifications of such technology. Smell can also obviously be seconded into the realm of private entertainment in a public environment. Roses, chocolate, feet, whatever one might prefer to smell over that dirty bum three rows ahead who peed his jeans in a drunken haze six days earlier and hadn't bothered to change clothes since. Unless he's what you want to smell, which would always be an option. Taste... That's a fun one. Eating that tbone all the way home while riding the 49 up the hill would be too tempting for most of us, especially if the sensation of food in the mouth could be properly falsified. Mmm...

Successfully existing in a large, closely-interlinked society relies on an extremely well-developed internal universe. This works well in Japanese culture, and is easily facilitated by modern technology. The iPod and iPhone are obvious examples of this. If the other senses can be equally coopted, harmony would be inevitable.

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John didn't know why he was following the girl, but there it was. Maybe it was the way her eyes refused to meet his or maybe it was the smell of he sweat. Likely it was the beer and the drugs. Whatever the impetus, he found himself following her down the hill into a slightly less trendy part of town than his own. Living here must be particularly affordable, he thought, and wondered if it was worth the social stigma. The girl walked several blocks ahead of him. Her hips swayed and he watched in the light of the street lamps. For several blocks he followed her unthinkingly, until she stopped in front of a tall residential tower next to a Honda dealership. She slipped her key into the lock and opened the door. John worked himself up to a wobbly jog and managed to get to the door before it had shut completely. She looked up and they made eye contact. Finally she had noticed him.

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One of these days I'm going to make one hell of a good wine. Keep your eyes out for Meredith Cellars; it's going to be sensational.

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Will Lisa notice the faint but pervasive smell of cat pee? We'll see. Will she blame me?

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Other things I did today: Found out that my cat peed on my bag, downloaded various apps to my iPhone, jerked off, took a shower, drank a beer.

Tonight I plan to drink at least one more beer, and probably some wine as well. I will not be smoking any weed because I was unable to find any. I will eat lamb with a potato dish. Lisa is a very good cook. I try to let her know how much I appreciate her, but sometimes my laziness, depression and general malaise get in the way. I did not put on the new toilet seat today.

Something in this apartment smells like cat pee. Probably more than one thing.

I did not clean the litterbox today but will do so now, before Lisa gets home.

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The nice thing about blogging from a mobile device is that the blog can become a constant stream of short bursts, machinegun literature. Not exactly stream of consciousness but something related. Bangbangbang.

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Photos? Not So Much

Well, this app claims to support photo uploads, but I just tested that and after about 5 minutes gave up. I also wish it would let me type in landscape mode but no luck on that front either. So Lifecast: Flawed, but a step in the right direction. Thank God for updates.

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LifeCast Test

This post is testing LifeCast...


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I did these things today: Went downtown, paid my rent, bought comic books, ate a burrito, read comic books, got coffee, did all my laundry, blogged and read blogs. Later I will do dishes and finish laundry. I will not put the new toilet seat on the toilet, probably. I don't know how to do it and am hesitant to do things I don't know how to do. Tonight I hope to watch The Empire Strikes Back.

I have been listening to Derek and the Dominoes all day. It's one of the saddest albums ever.
John wavered as he stood outside, smoking his cigarette and considering the inevitability of lung cancer. The percocet had kicked in now, and combined with his warm beer it created a numbness within him, a separation between his calm inner self and the world spinning by around him. A cab roared past down the hill, its emissions bleeding out into the world as it passed. John stood strong though he wavered from the effects of the drugs. Though he was numb, sadness managed to seep its way into his perceptions. His apartment was right down the street, in the heart of this, the hippest neighborhood in the city. Only loneliness awaited him there. That girl- what's her name?- She looked nice tonight. The tattoes on her arms had glistened with sweat in the muggy bar in a way that attracted John. Maybe he'd talk to her when he went back inside if he could get her attention. Maybe she'd come up the street with him that night and fill that space occupied right now with only loneliness. Maybe.

As John thought this he wavered, and as he wavered he saw the girl walk past and down the hill, in the opposite direction of his apartment. She didn't look his way.
John stamped out his cigarette and went inside to finish his beer.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Blogger app!

I was much more verbose on this subject a moment ago, but a Safari crash lost me my entire post.

Which underlines my point: Google! Make a Blogger app for my iPhone! And make it easy for me to post photos from it. Right now they're all getting sent to Facebook.

I really appreciate how this device includes apostrophes for me. Nice touch.
Agh. Safari crash just cost me an entire post. Life is merciless.

Monday, August 4, 2008

iPhone, iThink...

Well, I finally got this thing I've been technolusting after, and it's pretty freaking great. I wish there was a Blogger application but there isn't; I have to access the site via Safari. Also I can't get the damned thing to select the compose field, so I have to write everything in the edit HTML field. Gripe gripe gripe. Now to sleep; I have to be up in a few hours.


God I love typing on this thing.