"Sports, when played passionately and intelligently, are great a great thing
to watch and experience. Especially when performed by those who are the
best at what they do. We rise above the basic necessities of daily life
(food, shelter, protection from enemies, and the meaningless passing of
time) to a heightened state similar to that caused by great music or great
art. At their crudest, sports provide distraction and tribal identity (like
pop music). At their best, they provide transcendence. Sports, like art,
dance, or music are a uniquely human expression, initially meaningless in
product or outcome. The meaning (and value) of sports is a function of
careful study on the part of both the performer and observer and like art,
dance, or music, transforms from meaningless brush strokes, tones, or motion
into something greater.

The game you watched last night is the sum of all basketball games that came
before it. The pinnacle of human expression through basketball.

I'm sure the same can be said for NASCAR. I'm just not studied enough. And
I belong to the wrong tribe.

Time for lunch."

-Rich Walkling 11.21.03


"Dying is easier when unconscious."

- ty hardaway, November 14, 2003
- stolen from Jon Baty, November 14, 2003

Two consecutive pages of useful information
Confirming and disappointing consecutively

Of theories toward brain-machine interfaces
And smart relief from severe and chronic pains

Focus the minds on intelligent goals
With unimportant but highly imaginative colleagues

We can agree that the time has come
For cognitive coups and invisible acquisitions

A society parallel and unequal
Simple and vigorous can indeed exist

Without feature-creep or worrisome expenses
Of spirit, integrity, creativity or hair loss

Queen for a day or pawn for a lifetime
White full-length faux fur or rumpled worn oxford

Human reliability analyses with weak probabilities
Only conceptualize the obvious

Long and technical papers to recapitulate
Our instinctual demise as a species
Though sunsets are keenly
embedded in my chronology
I am growing more tolerant and appreciative
of the inspirational values of rising suns
in the easting part of our continent

Living life like death wishes
Fighting battles for origins unknown
Building legacies out of
"conflicting tastes"

Making a difference is hard when
I'm still making up my mind
Clouds shading clouds
and the times we had, baby

From up here
So much seems unimportant
Simplicity and satisfaction from within
Are ultimate rewards


Halloween at the Oakland International Airport

We've got to step outside ourselves
in order to be ourselves
Since we cannot rely on anyone
other than ourselves
to save ourselves

Libido burrito
Flat long and wide
Like the Oakland airport
Chrome accents and high heels
Extra large oddly proportioned breasts
We're all in costumes anyway everyday

Living in my own customized world
Insulated from real contact
with glasses, hats and socks
Personal electronics help the tweak

Ground zeros still exist
soundtracks of personal "Live Events"
of smokes, clones and flesh
Living on parallel planes
Automatically rotating human scenery

Scoring quite low on
the evaluative scale
from one to infinity
Memories of the day
taste of human skin --
The white girls
Definitely the white girls

I am convinced sometimes
That my life is nearing its end
Short, squat and useless
Bored and afraid of the freaks
who possess all the real power
And who force the wealthy meek
to react with little or no love

Costume or not
Angles are all right (toward perfect)
I think I love you
Because love is one standard deviation from lust
And since that's our only real duty
or is it my sanity that's in question?

Simple truths
and purity
Why is it that
The intelligent people of my cohurt
Are so unsatisfied with working

The flattering burden of the hunt for
"Quality of life"
Deconstruction of deconstruction

String theory applied to the psyche
Relative to nothingness indeed
Just what happened directly prior to the Big Bang?

Points smaller than points
The space that contains space

No aspirations for ambition anymore
Emphasis on legacy and end games
Leaky and stuttering creakily about

Back to Work

Back to work adventures

We learn slow
Rock and roll Marcus
Marcus is crazy
Tap-tap drumming
Leonard Hoffman taught me these chords
Jamie Perez taught me how to love
At the cat Box

Waiting to swim to the surface of all these wires
Rolled by the system
Intellectual challenges posed by the inquiry
This is a waste of our time
Do you understand where I'm coming from?

"Shit, motherfucking yeah, by the Sexy Motherfuckers."
Theoretical airflow and heat propagation
Intellectually arrogant
Get your baby
You don't know my name
Not trying hard
I don't wear
fashionable clothes
nor do I have
much of an image
to manage or protect

[stinky cheese girls of thematic decorating black pants and cheap black boots]
[goatees and laptops]
Porcelain dodgers
tics and all
blows noses on linen
is not big but knows how small

Artificial existentialism
of powerpoint schemes
made up and dressed up
representative of dreams

Four stars of luxury
finely woven cloths
cellular communications name badges
narrowly followed swathes

Groups and individuals
solo spinning souls
crashing like galaxies
into small suburban 'toon holes
Five rules for living:

1. Be born an artist

2. Anti-structure; coincidence, nonlinear time

3. The inciting incident

4. Everyone takes turns rescuing everyone else

5. Tidy the little pieces

"Life is saturated with dread because you know you're going to die."
I have this recurring dream about elevators usually in very tall buildings.

The frustrations always escalates as the buttons either mislead the passengers - misdirected us to the wrong floors - or the car is so rickety that one fears for life and sanity.

These dreams are generally so similar that it could be one life-long series (saga).

I don't recall even exiting the elevator cars, but always there is hope of a clever and safe exit.
Tiny bird hovering
without knowledge of horrors
innocent of crimes
Shiny brass buttons
dangle from cuts of blue wool
quick hop back in time
I am in a costume of self-hate