the wind is my friend,
my lover,
my soul;
it fills me from the inside,
it moves me from without;
in it i
dance,
sing,
laugh,
run,
and,
sometimes,
fly;
the wind is my ocean
upon which i surf,
within which i swim,
it is my calm and my storm,
i know no other song
than its howl and whisper;
i know no other caress
than its breezes and gusts;
it is my spirit and my breath,
it is my life
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Social Networking Confession
From the beginning, I hated the idea of social networking. MySpace seemed a stupid waste of time, and Facebook was its clean-cut, annoying kid brother. Pages were silly encyclopedia entries on persons who lacked reknown, and MySpace, let's be honest, was full of the most horrid page designs one can see outside of an acid trip.
Blogging was ok, in my book, because I'm an inveterate scribbler: recording the epic deeds of heroes on that green, large-lined paper from elementary school. True, most of those tales were never read by another living soul, much like this blog. But still, I wrote them back then, because, in some ways, I had no choice, and I'll continue to write now, in part for the same reasons. It's part of who I am (one of those parts I'll admit to in a mixed public forum like this; my kids can read my secret journals when I'm dead and learn about the other bits).
Having said all of that, I must confess that I have completely changed my judgment of social networking sites. The ability to casually and easily be in contact with friends both past and present (and the occasional stranger who becomes a future friend) is kinda nice, especially as the aging process robs me of the vitality of today and makes me nostalgic for bygone days (nostalgic, but not stupid; you can keep your time machines to yourself. I'll remain living in the present, even as a crusty old curmudgeon). I'm not saying these type of online services have changed my life, but by allowing me to catch a glimpse of names and faces from my youth, I feel a greater sense of... not exactly closure, but something between an ongoing closure and an expanding completeness. Does that make any sense?
As William Gibson famously pointed out, the Internet is the great waster of time. Social networking sites, doubly so. And, perhaps, contra to my earlier judgment, they are not so much "stupid" wastes of time as they are delightful flashes of retro-future connectivity: the present soul's brief nod and smile to a past that now is present somewhere besides the hazy photo album of memory. And maybe, just maybe, that is value enough.
Blogging was ok, in my book, because I'm an inveterate scribbler: recording the epic deeds of heroes on that green, large-lined paper from elementary school. True, most of those tales were never read by another living soul, much like this blog. But still, I wrote them back then, because, in some ways, I had no choice, and I'll continue to write now, in part for the same reasons. It's part of who I am (one of those parts I'll admit to in a mixed public forum like this; my kids can read my secret journals when I'm dead and learn about the other bits).
Having said all of that, I must confess that I have completely changed my judgment of social networking sites. The ability to casually and easily be in contact with friends both past and present (and the occasional stranger who becomes a future friend) is kinda nice, especially as the aging process robs me of the vitality of today and makes me nostalgic for bygone days (nostalgic, but not stupid; you can keep your time machines to yourself. I'll remain living in the present, even as a crusty old curmudgeon). I'm not saying these type of online services have changed my life, but by allowing me to catch a glimpse of names and faces from my youth, I feel a greater sense of... not exactly closure, but something between an ongoing closure and an expanding completeness. Does that make any sense?
As William Gibson famously pointed out, the Internet is the great waster of time. Social networking sites, doubly so. And, perhaps, contra to my earlier judgment, they are not so much "stupid" wastes of time as they are delightful flashes of retro-future connectivity: the present soul's brief nod and smile to a past that now is present somewhere besides the hazy photo album of memory. And maybe, just maybe, that is value enough.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Elementary Numbers for Breakfast
- 1967 is not a prime.
- 19 is a prime, so is 67.
- 1967 is sort of symmetrical, in binary (11110101111).
- 1967 in binary is 19 digits long.
- 19 is (still) a prime.
- 1+1+1+1+0+1+0+1+1+1+1=9.
- 9 is not prime (but it is the numerological value of both my name and my birthdate).
- 1967 has only two proper factors: 7 and 281.
- 7 and 281 are primes.
- 2+8+1=11.
- 11 is a prime.
- 1+1=2.
- 2 is a prime.
- 1+9+6+7=23.
- 23 is a prime.
- 2+3=5.
- 5 is a prime.
- I was born in 1967, and I like primes.
- The above statement is not universally true, but it is true of me.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Trek Prequel Haiku (lame)
no special effects,
gore, nor gratuitous sex,
just kirk, spock, and bones
from midwest farmland
to boldy go where no man
dreams of first command
counting beats per line,
once dead but once more alive,
"logic" makes this five
southern gentleman
gruff manner with healing hands
heart which understands
head, heart, will, these three
as one find their destiny:
lives entwined yet free...
gore, nor gratuitous sex,
just kirk, spock, and bones
from midwest farmland
to boldy go where no man
dreams of first command
counting beats per line,
once dead but once more alive,
"logic" makes this five
southern gentleman
gruff manner with healing hands
heart which understands
head, heart, will, these three
as one find their destiny:
lives entwined yet free...
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Suddenly Midnight - (first sliver)
I'm still sitting here, even though I know I should have left hours ago. It doesn't seem right, what with what happened to Corn and all, but I can't bring myself to get off this stool and walk out into the empty night. I haven't even touched the drink, not since the first sip I took when I ordered it, what, four hours ago? Scotch, neat, and it tasted like nothing. It wouldn't matter how much I drank, it would still taste like nothing, and I would still feel like nothing. And Corn and the others would still be dead.
Yesterday was four lifetimes ago, at least as measured by the lives of my four best friends. Corn, Willie, Sam, and Dawn. Yesterday, we met for breakfast at the Kountry Kitchen. Corn had his usual farm-boy breakfast of everything (monster stack of pancakes, a mound of scrambled eggs, piles of sausage, bacon, and ham, a double order of biscuits and gravy, a large glass of whole milk, and some extremely sweet and wholly creamed coffee). Sam, still on her vegan kick, groused melodramatically at Corn's carnivorous ways while sipping her grapefruit juice and nibbling at her whole grain, no-egg pancakes. We've all been waiting for this phase to pass, as it always does for Sam. As it always did for Sam. I suppose if you die a vegetarian, then you're a vegetarian forever. The rest of us ate meals somewhere in between Sam and Corn's extremes.
It was a good morning, even if was a ridiculously early morning. We had arranged to meet at the Kitchen by six, and, strangely, we were all there on time (even Dawn, who rarely makes a Saturday appearance before eleven in the morning). Smiling Dave, the weather guy from Channel 10, had predicted a glorious spring day, and if the first few minutes after sunrise were any indication, he was going to be right on target. Five friends with a beautiful weekend before them, a just-like-homemade meal to feast on (literally, in Willie's case: his mom was the cook at the Kitchen), and not a care in our hearts. Well, ok, we had cares, but at that moment, they didn't seem to matter. Mine didn't, anyway. In hindsight, I suppose it would have been better if they had mattered.
Yesterday was four lifetimes ago, at least as measured by the lives of my four best friends. Corn, Willie, Sam, and Dawn. Yesterday, we met for breakfast at the Kountry Kitchen. Corn had his usual farm-boy breakfast of everything (monster stack of pancakes, a mound of scrambled eggs, piles of sausage, bacon, and ham, a double order of biscuits and gravy, a large glass of whole milk, and some extremely sweet and wholly creamed coffee). Sam, still on her vegan kick, groused melodramatically at Corn's carnivorous ways while sipping her grapefruit juice and nibbling at her whole grain, no-egg pancakes. We've all been waiting for this phase to pass, as it always does for Sam. As it always did for Sam. I suppose if you die a vegetarian, then you're a vegetarian forever. The rest of us ate meals somewhere in between Sam and Corn's extremes.
It was a good morning, even if was a ridiculously early morning. We had arranged to meet at the Kitchen by six, and, strangely, we were all there on time (even Dawn, who rarely makes a Saturday appearance before eleven in the morning). Smiling Dave, the weather guy from Channel 10, had predicted a glorious spring day, and if the first few minutes after sunrise were any indication, he was going to be right on target. Five friends with a beautiful weekend before them, a just-like-homemade meal to feast on (literally, in Willie's case: his mom was the cook at the Kitchen), and not a care in our hearts. Well, ok, we had cares, but at that moment, they didn't seem to matter. Mine didn't, anyway. In hindsight, I suppose it would have been better if they had mattered.
Friday, March 13, 2009
On Making (Well, Building) Love
Why would an AI like you any more than an NI (natural intelligence)? If you programmed it to like you, then, after a while, it would seem shallow. No matter how clever the programming, you'd *know* that it was just following your program, that the friendship, affection, love (whatever) wasn't real. If you responded to this known illusion with real recipricol feelings, you'd be kinda pathetic: returning love (or even initially giving love) to a thing that only appears to love you back. On the other hand, if you programmed it to make its own judgment of you, then why wouldn't it make the same judgment as everyone else? If you are not likeable/loveable, then your AI might reject you as well. You would have to win its approval, earn its trust, be worthy of its love, just like you would with any NI. If you offered friendship to an AI, and it returned your friendship, not because it was programmed to respond a certain way to you, but because you won it over, then how would that be any different that the friendship of an NI?
Of course, in order for it to be open to liking, friendship, love, whatever, you would have to program it to need such a relationship (or at least strongly desire it). An AI that had no need for forming a relationship would have no reason to enter into a genuine relationship with you (beyond, perhaps, a utilitarian manipulation of your human weakness). So, you create your AI with a need for relationship (be it friendship or love or whatever) but not with the specific programming that says that it has to respond a certain way to you. Any other plan, and you're just playing by yourself with a clever, but ultimately meaningless, toy. You would seem pathetic. However, programmed with a need/desire for relationship, but no hardwired, lovebot slaving to you, and you have something that could have meaning. Of course, you've taken a risk it won't like you. But, then that's what happens when you create in your own image a creature that you can form a meaningful loving relationship with. Kinda weird how the universe works, huh?
Of course, in order for it to be open to liking, friendship, love, whatever, you would have to program it to need such a relationship (or at least strongly desire it). An AI that had no need for forming a relationship would have no reason to enter into a genuine relationship with you (beyond, perhaps, a utilitarian manipulation of your human weakness). So, you create your AI with a need for relationship (be it friendship or love or whatever) but not with the specific programming that says that it has to respond a certain way to you. Any other plan, and you're just playing by yourself with a clever, but ultimately meaningless, toy. You would seem pathetic. However, programmed with a need/desire for relationship, but no hardwired, lovebot slaving to you, and you have something that could have meaning. Of course, you've taken a risk it won't like you. But, then that's what happens when you create in your own image a creature that you can form a meaningful loving relationship with. Kinda weird how the universe works, huh?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
overheard in the computer lab
writing code again, i see
* no, not really
looks like code
* it's actually a spell, but i think better in pseudo-code
your pseudo-code looks like basic
* child of the eighties, i still think in basic
you're messed up, man
* /grin/
a spell?
* yeah
what kind?
* the kind that finds lost things
you've lost something?!?
* /silence/
seriously, you never lose anything
* yeah, well...
so, what'd you lose?
* /more silence/
oh, c'mon. can't be that bad.
* /glares/
fine.
/pause/
i could help, you know
* you don't know jack about magic
ok, but i could help you look, if you'd tell me what we're looking for
* you can't help. no one can help, but me
wow... narcissistic and depressed: nice
* /sighs/
* if i tell you, will you shut up and let me work?
you bet
* /awkward/ it's my soul, ok? i lost my soul
whoa, that totally sucks
* no, not really
looks like code
* it's actually a spell, but i think better in pseudo-code
your pseudo-code looks like basic
* child of the eighties, i still think in basic
you're messed up, man
* /grin/
a spell?
* yeah
what kind?
* the kind that finds lost things
you've lost something?!?
* /silence/
seriously, you never lose anything
* yeah, well...
so, what'd you lose?
* /more silence/
oh, c'mon. can't be that bad.
* /glares/
fine.
/pause/
i could help, you know
* you don't know jack about magic
ok, but i could help you look, if you'd tell me what we're looking for
* you can't help. no one can help, but me
wow... narcissistic and depressed: nice
* /sighs/
* if i tell you, will you shut up and let me work?
you bet
* /awkward/ it's my soul, ok? i lost my soul
whoa, that totally sucks
Monday, February 09, 2009
a bit early, but still hopeful
twilight falls
on winter's stage,
tomorrow's dawn:
spring's first blush;
fresh dew falls
on icy page,
the cub, the fawn:
life's new rush
on winter's stage,
tomorrow's dawn:
spring's first blush;
fresh dew falls
on icy page,
the cub, the fawn:
life's new rush
Sunday, February 08, 2009
pigpen's lament
they say that i must wash my hands;
why is it no one understands?
i love the feel:
the grit,
the grime.
being dirty,
it is no crime.
my hair's unkempt,
an Einstein mess,
no real contempt,
just won't impress:
wrinkled clothes,
and scuffed up shoes;
keep your pose,
for this i choose.
why is it no one understands?
i love the feel:
the grit,
the grime.
being dirty,
it is no crime.
my hair's unkempt,
an Einstein mess,
no real contempt,
just won't impress:
wrinkled clothes,
and scuffed up shoes;
keep your pose,
for this i choose.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
What is Life?
From Wendell Berry's Life is a Miracle:
To experience [life] is not to "figure it out" or even to understand it, but to suffer it and rejoice in it as it is. In suffering it and rejoicing in it as it is, we know that we do not and cannot understand it completely. We know, moreover, that we do not wish to have it appropriated by somebody's claim to have understood it. Though we have life, it is beyond us. We do not know how we have it, or why. We do not know what is going to happen to it, or to us. It is not predictable; though we can destroy it, we cannot make it. It cannot, except by reduction and the grave risk of damage, be controlled. It is, as Blake said, holy.
To experience [life] is not to "figure it out" or even to understand it, but to suffer it and rejoice in it as it is. In suffering it and rejoicing in it as it is, we know that we do not and cannot understand it completely. We know, moreover, that we do not wish to have it appropriated by somebody's claim to have understood it. Though we have life, it is beyond us. We do not know how we have it, or why. We do not know what is going to happen to it, or to us. It is not predictable; though we can destroy it, we cannot make it. It cannot, except by reduction and the grave risk of damage, be controlled. It is, as Blake said, holy.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Holiday Report
Solstice was too darn cold for sky-clad rituals, so we dug out the old gray woolen robes (again!) Kwanzaa celebrated by a clan of Irish-American leprechauns is just plain silly (trust me, we tried it one year). Hanukkah was really nice, until I accidentally knocked the menorah over, burning our synagogue to the ground. As far as Festivus went, it's better not to discuss. What happens on Festivus, and all that.
Which leaves Christmas...
Christmas was nice. I had the kids from the 22nd through the morning of the 31st. It was mostly a time of relaxing, laughing, playing, and just enjoying the moments. We went down to visit friends and family a couple of days after Christmas. I didn't get a chance to see everyone I wanted to see, unfortunately, but I suppose that gives me a reason to look forward to the next visit.
Reading? Well, over the holiday, mostly beach reading. Hopefully I'll step up to something more substantial before spring. Currently I'm reading A. Lee Martinez's In the Company of Ogres, as usual, I like my {fantasy|science fiction|horror|whatever genre} served up with a healthy side of humor.
Visual media: I finished watching Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda. It was fun, although the last two seasons were not as strong as the first three. Qualitywise, I'd place it somewhere between Babylon 5 and Firefly (the latter being my all-time favorite science fiction television series). Contentwise, it's in a league of its own: mythology cloaked in intergalactic space opera. I've also been seduced to the Dark Side: I've watched all three Jeff Dunham DVD performances and laughed hysterically at all three.
Well, that's all the news that fit to post. Hopefully more sooner rather than later...
Which leaves Christmas...
Christmas was nice. I had the kids from the 22nd through the morning of the 31st. It was mostly a time of relaxing, laughing, playing, and just enjoying the moments. We went down to visit friends and family a couple of days after Christmas. I didn't get a chance to see everyone I wanted to see, unfortunately, but I suppose that gives me a reason to look forward to the next visit.
Reading? Well, over the holiday, mostly beach reading. Hopefully I'll step up to something more substantial before spring. Currently I'm reading A. Lee Martinez's In the Company of Ogres, as usual, I like my {fantasy|science fiction|horror|whatever genre} served up with a healthy side of humor.
Visual media: I finished watching Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda. It was fun, although the last two seasons were not as strong as the first three. Qualitywise, I'd place it somewhere between Babylon 5 and Firefly (the latter being my all-time favorite science fiction television series). Contentwise, it's in a league of its own: mythology cloaked in intergalactic space opera. I've also been seduced to the Dark Side: I've watched all three Jeff Dunham DVD performances and laughed hysterically at all three.
Well, that's all the news that fit to post. Hopefully more sooner rather than later...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Geeky Goodness
Slack 12.2 is out... time to recompile all of my extra software (package management? who needs package management when you have source code?!?)
And I recently discovered an ubuntu-derived distro I (sorta) like: crunchbang linux. Based on the openbox window manager, it is zippier than even xubuntu. If you like debian-type goodness, but want something a bit leaner (and less brown) than ubuntu, give crunchbang a whirl.
I think 2009 may be the year I try to avoid Windows outside of work. It probably won't be, since Windows handles video a lot more smoothly on my old hardware than Linux does, but, we'll see. It would be nice to stop being a hypocrite (I mean, pragmatist) and live out some ideals for a change...
I've got a bazillion documents in PDF that I need to read (who knew that there were so many free textbooks online?) Too bad my phone and pda screens are too small and my desktop too non-portable. A tablet PC would probably be perfect, but alas, too pricey. My clunky laptop will have to serve as my semi-portable PDF reader, unless any of you know of an ultra portable device for reading PDF files without needing new glasses (i.e. like the electron microscope my pda would require).
Hope all is well in your respective corners of Real Life. Two weeks until the Blessed Day (wait, shouldn't I start shopping some time soonish?)
And I recently discovered an ubuntu-derived distro I (sorta) like: crunchbang linux. Based on the openbox window manager, it is zippier than even xubuntu. If you like debian-type goodness, but want something a bit leaner (and less brown) than ubuntu, give crunchbang a whirl.
I think 2009 may be the year I try to avoid Windows outside of work. It probably won't be, since Windows handles video a lot more smoothly on my old hardware than Linux does, but, we'll see. It would be nice to stop being a hypocrite (I mean, pragmatist) and live out some ideals for a change...
I've got a bazillion documents in PDF that I need to read (who knew that there were so many free textbooks online?) Too bad my phone and pda screens are too small and my desktop too non-portable. A tablet PC would probably be perfect, but alas, too pricey. My clunky laptop will have to serve as my semi-portable PDF reader, unless any of you know of an ultra portable device for reading PDF files without needing new glasses (i.e. like the electron microscope my pda would require).
Hope all is well in your respective corners of Real Life. Two weeks until the Blessed Day (wait, shouldn't I start shopping some time soonish?)
Waking Up When the Buzz Is Gone
An article on the end of the current tech buzz (bloggers, this means us!)
About time, now can I please get back to narcissistic ramblings that even my own mother would find boring?
About time, now can I please get back to narcissistic ramblings that even my own mother would find boring?
Thursday, December 04, 2008
I'll Square Your Circle
On this date in 1679, philosopher Thomas Hobbes died, thus ending his 25 year feud with John Wallis over Hobbes's attempt to square the circle in 1655. It began when Hobbes called Wallis's Arithmetica Infinitorum a "scab of symbols."
--source, The MAA Mathematics Digital Library
--source, The MAA Mathematics Digital Library
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Speedy Delivery
More updates from the news room of my life...
- Father Andrew Greeley's condition has improved after his freak accident last month. Greels is my (and several thousand, if not million, others') priest. I may not officially be Roman Catholic, but the likes of Greeley, G.K. Chesterton, and Peter Kreeft make me feel like I should be a closet Catholic.
- Slackware 12.2 is imminent!
- If you've never done it, let me assure you, grading papers is less fun than you'd think (and the final drafts are coming in next week...)
- An old friend found me on Facebook, which is way cool. Social networking site pays off, twitter update at 11.
- Thanksgiving in Lawrenceville with my kids and siblings was nice. Family is good.
- I avoided shopping on Black Friday (shout out to the radicals at Adbusters for encouraging Buy Nothing Day).
- Jonathan Coulton's Christmas song Chiron Beta Prime (from his Thing a Week experiment) has me in Exceedingly Good Spirits this morning.
- The annual Christmas sale at the Lincoln Christian College and Seminary bookstore is in full swing: 45% off books, as well as savings on supplies, clothing, and cards (i.e. things Slacker doesn't remember to buy).
- I've found the coolest design at cafepress.com that resounds with my personal mythology. What can't you find at cafepress.com?!?
- Lastly, despair.com has a limited run Christmas shirt.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Mundane Life Update Stuff
Too long with too little said. I missed commenting on the election wackiness. I missed commenting on the ramp up for the release of Kevin Smith's new film Zack and Miri Make a Porno (which deserved to be commented on, regardless of whether it deserves to be seen). I missed blogging my kids' birthdays. I way big time missed my commitment to blog regularly. I missed blogging the loss of author Michael Crichton.
Real life has been busy. I guess. I don't know. Anyway... this is a stupid and pointless post. I'm going ahead and posting it on the Something is better than Nothing school of blogging, but, sheesh! Go read Wikipedia or something.
Real life has been busy. I guess. I don't know. Anyway... this is a stupid and pointless post. I'm going ahead and posting it on the Something is better than Nothing school of blogging, but, sheesh! Go read Wikipedia or something.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
A Whiff of Prologue
"You do it. I hate exorcisms," he said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a pudgy hand to stop me. "This is not a discussion. You're my associate, I hate exorcisms, you're going to do it."
I waited a moment. "But shouldn't there be at least two priests present at an exorcism?" A week on the job, I was not about to do this alone.
Father Alphonzo De Sotta chuckled. It was an ugly little chuckle, not the only aspect of my boss that I had decided was ugly. "Sure, if this were a movie you might have a team of priests and psychiatrists and maybe even some Special Forces types, just in case. But this is little ol' Kirksdale, and the nearest shrink is, what, 100 miles away? Besides, I've handled plenty of these cases alone. You'll be fine."
The Church's procedures on exorcism were clear: no solo missions. This assignment was wrong, but more disturbing, "Define 'plenty.'"
Father Al smiled. The smile itself chilled me "from soul to socks" as my granny use to say. He stood up and crossed over to the filing cabinet, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a folder held together with large rubber bands. It was easily five or six inches thick. He tossed it on the desk and went back to smiling at me.
I glanced from the folder to my boss. "You've got to be kidding? This town only has a population of two thousand people. And you told me you've been here for almost twenty years. There must be hundreds of cases in that file."
He nodded, still smiling. "And now they're all yours. Welcome to Kirksdale, ass-end of the Midwest and pre-school for Hell's rugrats."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a pudgy hand to stop me. "This is not a discussion. You're my associate, I hate exorcisms, you're going to do it."
I waited a moment. "But shouldn't there be at least two priests present at an exorcism?" A week on the job, I was not about to do this alone.
Father Alphonzo De Sotta chuckled. It was an ugly little chuckle, not the only aspect of my boss that I had decided was ugly. "Sure, if this were a movie you might have a team of priests and psychiatrists and maybe even some Special Forces types, just in case. But this is little ol' Kirksdale, and the nearest shrink is, what, 100 miles away? Besides, I've handled plenty of these cases alone. You'll be fine."
The Church's procedures on exorcism were clear: no solo missions. This assignment was wrong, but more disturbing, "Define 'plenty.'"
Father Al smiled. The smile itself chilled me "from soul to socks" as my granny use to say. He stood up and crossed over to the filing cabinet, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a folder held together with large rubber bands. It was easily five or six inches thick. He tossed it on the desk and went back to smiling at me.
I glanced from the folder to my boss. "You've got to be kidding? This town only has a population of two thousand people. And you told me you've been here for almost twenty years. There must be hundreds of cases in that file."
He nodded, still smiling. "And now they're all yours. Welcome to Kirksdale, ass-end of the Midwest and pre-school for Hell's rugrats."
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Joy
I wanted to look something up online today, which meant a trip out to the office. I decided to walk (undoubtedly influenced by my current reading of Divorce Your Car by Katie Alvord). I live about 2 miles from where I work, and it took me about half an hour to get here. Yes, this is longer than the drive out would have been. I also have sweat a bit more. But...
- I watched a butterfly fly past
- I talked to an old lady sitting out in front of her house on a lawn chair (I don't know her, but does that really matter?)
- I smelled autumn leaves
- I heard said leaves crunch beneath my feet
- I felt the breeze blow through my hair
- I saw the heavy clouds looming overhead (40% chance of scattered thunderstorms today)
- I smelled burning wood (like someone was grilling with wood chips maybe?)
- I experienced that mild excitement I get every time I step across a set of railroad tracks: the feeling of coming in contact with something larger than myself (is it weird that train tracks and beaches give me similar feelings?)
- I noticed trees and dogs and children and the temperature
- I saw a car antenna lying at the side of the road by a busy intersection
- I run the distinct risk of getting caught in the rain. A situation that was so commonplace in childhood that it was barely considered, but as a grown up it seems to be a Thing To Be Avoided At All Costs.
- I was blessed, no, I am blessed by just this simple act of living
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Anathem
Neal Stephenson's newest novel is scheduled to be released today (and alas, I do not have a spare $30 burning a hole in my pocket!) Nevertheless, public libraries are a good thing, so I'll be getting on the list ASAP.
Anathem is a 960 page epic about a religious order of mathematicians, scientists, and philosophers who have been living behind cloister walls. It's set in the future, on another planet, and if it's anything like everything else Neal has written, it promises to be the best read of the year. The Amazon page has an excerpt and some video of Neal talking about the book and reading from it.
Anathem is a 960 page epic about a religious order of mathematicians, scientists, and philosophers who have been living behind cloister walls. It's set in the future, on another planet, and if it's anything like everything else Neal has written, it promises to be the best read of the year. The Amazon page has an excerpt and some video of Neal talking about the book and reading from it.
What to Do When You Have No Clue What to Blog About?!?
Try http://words.bighugelabs.com/blog.php
This suggests possible blog topics. Since I've been so slack about this blogging thing for so long, this just may be the kick in the pants I need. Of course the temptation to click, "Get some more" and thus waste time merely reading blog ideas is pretty strong (hello, slackers anonymous, I need a new life!)
This suggests possible blog topics. Since I've been so slack about this blogging thing for so long, this just may be the kick in the pants I need. Of course the temptation to click, "Get some more" and thus waste time merely reading blog ideas is pretty strong (hello, slackers anonymous, I need a new life!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
