Slackness speaks


It's been too long since I've started this process and not followed through. No apologies, as Kurt said. Perhaps that was a bad reference, as I'm nothing like him. (As I like to think...) However, I do feel a need to apologize, even if it's a public apology to myself. Perhaps, as I've stated before, that's what this thing is all about. An abstract of me. And that is philosophical in nature, as it pertains to the ontological nature of being in the Online Age.
My Avatar, as it Is.

So Be It.

I Smile as I write this, and have no fear of the Future Pundits.

God, I hope that somebody got that.....

What to say?

Impending holidays...yeech. Not necessarily bah humbug, just the malaise, the commercialism, my declining sense of humor. Trying to be optimistic and keep my head open. I'd just rather sleep, crawl into my navel and watch the world disappear. Bears know what to do during the winter - gorge yourself, find a nice safe warm place and curl up for a few months. So much to do, so little motivation. Alright, I'll quit whining now.

Now something completely different.


After becoming sufficiently caffeinated this morning, doing the customary online job hunt and cleaning my bathroom and kitchen until you could eat off the floor, a walk with the dog and a coupla shots of vanilla rum later and here I am yet again. Blog, blog blog. A few comments on my day:
Got a nice phone call from a dear friend whom I (at first) confused for another (very embarrassing...) Sprint called yet again for their monthly payment, my mother called to guilt trip me into submission about this and that, waded thru email, wrote replies, updated and tweaked my resume yet again, my roommate got home, played a few games of Asteroids (yes I have one just like it) and shot the shit about the day.

And here's the postscript to Thanksgiving. No one in my experience has put it more succinctly than this. Read it, weep, and be human.

Bravo, brother Apostropher!


I'm beginning to enjoy this. Time to take a break from cleaning house. Pretty calm day really, except for that argument with my mother.
(Sarcastically) I love arguing on the phone. Really accomplishes things. Good way to get your point across.
That's it for that.

So someone found that film tedious? Doesn't surprise me, as it was slow. Perhaps a better metaphor right now would be Office Space, or the Three Colors Trilogy. Quite a disparity... like my life right now.

More later.

And now for something completely different.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

I'm not sure why that film has been on my mind recently - another weird parallel in my life recently. Not the disconnectivity, rather the reverse. I need to break down and read the book. Despite the content, the title has so many other meanings, and I believe that's what I'm grasping at here...

Thanks for the comments, I guess... Lunaboca, I think I know who you are...

As far as all of this babble coming together soon, just wait. Be patient, you hordes of blogreaders. There is a method to my madness. Whoo I'm punchy today.

Look here for something completely different. More later.

Realization of ontogeny

Ok. this IS a philosophical blog. Actually, a good place to be right now. This will all tie in soon. A friend recently told me that I was 'holistic' and 'granola'. Took me back until I realized that i like that about myself. Doesn't always come across as what i think it does, but there we are back to perception and epistemology, with a healthy dose of semantics. It's getting deep in here. Perhaps time to sleep.. G'night.

Ontogeny here.

Have a turkey soda

Check out this if you think the holidays aren't getting even weirder. Y'all have a nice holiday season. Maybe some more on the holidays later.



Whew. What an insane seven days. Such a dichotomous series of events - tragedies and joys, synergistic happenings and the emotional roller coaster that accompanies them. It seems that so much is just slipping away, like in film when the hero tries to save the girl who is dangling over a precipice; instead of saving her she falls to her death. Tragic? Sad? The film ends there, but the story continues. For every ending, there is a beginning. In all of the confusion and strange events recently, there is this underlying coherency, as if the air had no quality of absorbing the light, and one could see beyond the horizon. I can't tell what is there, the resolution is infinitessimally small, but it shines with positive energy, hope and opportunity. And it is approaching rapidly.


Wow. Are perceptions all unique? If two people see a turtle on a beach, are there really two turtles, one perceived by one person, and another by the other? Do we trust that there is one turtle? Or have we simply come to accept it because we are prisoners of our own skewed perceptions? How is it that we come to a frame of reference, of understanding, of connection? I really don't think that I want an answer, if there is one, but the act of posing the question provides a kind of feedback in itself. Perhaps the connection is in the act of connecting, and not in the answers we recieve....

Becoming more oneself

I guess that it really is true that as we age, we just become more ourselves. When you look in the mirror, however, do you like what you see, and how important is that, really? liking what we see? Sometimes I think it's not. It really doesn't matter what I think about myself. Chalk that one up to being neurotic. How much does it matter what others think, however? Is it situation dependent? Where's the rule book, and how come no one tells me until after the faux-pas, the grand gesture? At least we can learn from our mistakes.

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