4:47 a.m.
crying baby
howling cat
coughing daddy
snoring mom
2.23.2004
Now that all the baggage has worn off, I can definitely say that Vota Asi is one of the very finest Kingdom of Leisure tracks.
Credit where credit is due though; fate played a significant hand in its creation, at least from the production side. Actually, from what I remember, fate was a huge part of the performance side too. It sounds like they knew what the hell they were doing. Maybe they did. Accidental? Who's to say?
Nuances. Touches. I happened across it bookended by the Beatles Norwegian Wood and Soundgarden's Dusty.
In fact, and I just realized this, the whole tKoL experience was all a big "future gift." It's like they went forward in time, five ten or more years and left little gifts (or mines or pointers or whatever), but it ceases to amaze that when you're lost, there are these pointers to help out along the way.
What is it parents are taught to say, "you may not like it now, but investing in your education now will pay off in the future." Some shit like that. Well, if you break ass and spend a couple of years making stuff, then dispersing it into the universe, it'll all come raining down some day.
Vota Asi
So you're too cool for romance
just get some on the side
I'm a peace loving man but you made the wrong woman cry
Think you can just walk in walk out
Snakes in the house snakes in the grass
And you thought I was joking when I said I'd kick your ass
She ain't no toy she's family
you should have left her all alone
Well you're a bad motherfucker but you're a long way from home
So you're still looking in bushes
for what you got right in your hand
blowing at boulders kicking at quicksand
We'll you messed with the wrong tribe
when you said you had to go
Well this is her consolation prize sideshow Romeo
Credit where credit is due though; fate played a significant hand in its creation, at least from the production side. Actually, from what I remember, fate was a huge part of the performance side too. It sounds like they knew what the hell they were doing. Maybe they did. Accidental? Who's to say?
Nuances. Touches. I happened across it bookended by the Beatles Norwegian Wood and Soundgarden's Dusty.
In fact, and I just realized this, the whole tKoL experience was all a big "future gift." It's like they went forward in time, five ten or more years and left little gifts (or mines or pointers or whatever), but it ceases to amaze that when you're lost, there are these pointers to help out along the way.
What is it parents are taught to say, "you may not like it now, but investing in your education now will pay off in the future." Some shit like that. Well, if you break ass and spend a couple of years making stuff, then dispersing it into the universe, it'll all come raining down some day.
Vota Asi
So you're too cool for romance
just get some on the side
I'm a peace loving man but you made the wrong woman cry
Think you can just walk in walk out
Snakes in the house snakes in the grass
And you thought I was joking when I said I'd kick your ass
She ain't no toy she's family
you should have left her all alone
Well you're a bad motherfucker but you're a long way from home
So you're still looking in bushes
for what you got right in your hand
blowing at boulders kicking at quicksand
We'll you messed with the wrong tribe
when you said you had to go
Well this is her consolation prize sideshow Romeo
2.20.2004
World War III
Petroleum war? Nope. Culture war.
"President Bush wants to see the controversial new film, "The Passion of the Christ," his spokesman said Friday."
"At least a half-dozen gay and lesbian couples waited outside the Sandoval County courthouse after county clerk Victoria Dunlap began issuing marriage licenses for same-sex couples."
So what?
"The president will seat Mr. Pryor, who has gained prominence as an outspoken opponent of legalized abortion and as an advocate for a greater Christian influence in government, on the United States Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit, the officials said."
"Madison, Maine -- Tired of the same old Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts? The Madison Planning Board tonight takes up a man's application to open a topless coffee shop on Main Street."
So what?
Petroleum war? Nope. Culture war.
"President Bush wants to see the controversial new film, "The Passion of the Christ," his spokesman said Friday."
"At least a half-dozen gay and lesbian couples waited outside the Sandoval County courthouse after county clerk Victoria Dunlap began issuing marriage licenses for same-sex couples."
So what?
"The president will seat Mr. Pryor, who has gained prominence as an outspoken opponent of legalized abortion and as an advocate for a greater Christian influence in government, on the United States Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit, the officials said."
"Madison, Maine -- Tired of the same old Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts? The Madison Planning Board tonight takes up a man's application to open a topless coffee shop on Main Street."
So what?
2.17.2004
Dear Dan,
I have entered a revival period in my love-hate relationship with singles - I'm a album guy. This morning I have to reach out to you to thank you for personal spiritual revival and inspiration. This morning, while swimming in the ecstasy of the iPod all-song shuffle, the most beautiful song I've ever heard/experienced played (10/2,014). Fuck me if it wasn't My Oh My from Wintertime.
Thank you for joy. Of course, I now have to question all previous notions of wonderment and musical perfections. I wonder aloud how foolish I have been in thinking that I could contribute to an already complete body of historical and psychic art. That song wounded me pretty hard. If I didn't love you, I would punch you in the shoulder.
Again, thanks.
-ty
I have entered a revival period in my love-hate relationship with singles - I'm a album guy. This morning I have to reach out to you to thank you for personal spiritual revival and inspiration. This morning, while swimming in the ecstasy of the iPod all-song shuffle, the most beautiful song I've ever heard/experienced played (10/2,014). Fuck me if it wasn't My Oh My from Wintertime.
Thank you for joy. Of course, I now have to question all previous notions of wonderment and musical perfections. I wonder aloud how foolish I have been in thinking that I could contribute to an already complete body of historical and psychic art. That song wounded me pretty hard. If I didn't love you, I would punch you in the shoulder.
Again, thanks.
-ty
2.10.2004
2.03.2004
Suzanne,
I am sitting on the 2nd floor of the lovely Bethesda Corporate offices right...now (my reference to "here" meant here in lovely corporate Bethesda). Strategizing. Planning. Cognitively playing chess with "the powers." Currently, I am pretty even but on a positive streak. I sometimes feel that I'm a character in 1984 or the film Brazil.
Informal members of the intellectual/progressive underground - IPU - number around a dozen. They include people from Chicago, Cambridge, Bethesda, telecommuters and a couple of very senior people. These are the truth seekers and the problem solvers. I consult with a couple of very long term, former employees ("former" is key because they feel they can tell all) and have willing internal consultants who are wonderful collaborators.
I don't know Dave, but if you say he's a cell, so be it. I am sure there are many. My goal is to create links and working relationships with several. One big success is that Dan and I control a large chunk of the information processing and have input into more.
I think during the Nixon administrations they were called the Plumbers - or the Committee to Re-elect the President.
I was fairly certain our garbage trucks wouldn't make it today given the ice storm. I didn't even take the can out. But, there they were, Donald and Enrique, waving at Brennan* and tooting the horn. They are amazing fellows.
With a little shared vision, we can make great changes. I am sure NSA will interpret this as all some sort of code.
I am sitting on the 2nd floor of the lovely Bethesda Corporate offices right...now (my reference to "here" meant here in lovely corporate Bethesda). Strategizing. Planning. Cognitively playing chess with "the powers." Currently, I am pretty even but on a positive streak. I sometimes feel that I'm a character in 1984 or the film Brazil.
Informal members of the intellectual/progressive underground - IPU - number around a dozen. They include people from Chicago, Cambridge, Bethesda, telecommuters and a couple of very senior people. These are the truth seekers and the problem solvers. I consult with a couple of very long term, former employees ("former" is key because they feel they can tell all) and have willing internal consultants who are wonderful collaborators.
I don't know Dave, but if you say he's a cell, so be it. I am sure there are many. My goal is to create links and working relationships with several. One big success is that Dan and I control a large chunk of the information processing and have input into more.
I think during the Nixon administrations they were called the Plumbers - or the Committee to Re-elect the President.
I was fairly certain our garbage trucks wouldn't make it today given the ice storm. I didn't even take the can out. But, there they were, Donald and Enrique, waving at Brennan* and tooting the horn. They are amazing fellows.
With a little shared vision, we can make great changes. I am sure NSA will interpret this as all some sort of code.
1.16.2004
Yes. It is cold. But, I don't have to enter your idiotic narrow themed discussion about how cold it is. I noticed, thanks.
So what? This isn't Belize. This is what happens every year during winter: it gets cold. We've called it winter forever.
Why all the drama? Your wool mittens and stocking cap can come off in your cubicle, it's what - between the forced air heat and the space heater - about 90 degrees in here. Your sweating!
I am boycotting your little play. I mean, the world's not coming to an end....
...or it is. Maybe that's what I'm concerned with.
So what? This isn't Belize. This is what happens every year during winter: it gets cold. We've called it winter forever.
Why all the drama? Your wool mittens and stocking cap can come off in your cubicle, it's what - between the forced air heat and the space heater - about 90 degrees in here. Your sweating!
I am boycotting your little play. I mean, the world's not coming to an end....
...or it is. Maybe that's what I'm concerned with.
12.29.2003
[Post Originally Untitled]
When, in the morning after the first day of the opium binge, the eyes finally open and the pain is bearable enough to focus on the time, life seems such a surprise.
The only relief is that day two of the opium binge is soon to begin.
The pain is the pleasure; at least in its symbiotic relationship.
The mundane becomes the profound. The senses open like hanger doors.
Merry Christmas.
[y’all driving Subarus and working in cubicles]
The only relief is that day two of the opium binge is soon to begin.
The pain is the pleasure; at least in its symbiotic relationship.
The mundane becomes the profound. The senses open like hanger doors.
Merry Christmas.
[y’all driving Subarus and working in cubicles]
11.21.2003
"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
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
11.14.2003
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
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
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
11.03.2003
Halloween at the Oakland International Airport
I.
We've got to step outside ourselves
in order to be ourselves
Since we cannot rely on anyone
other than ourselves
to save ourselves
II.
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
III.
Living in my own customized world
Insulated from real contact
with glasses, hats and socks
Personal electronics help the tweak
IV.
Ground zeros still exist
soundtracks of personal "Live Events"
of smokes, clones and flesh
Living on parallel planes
Automatically rotating human scenery
V.
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
VI.
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
VII.
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?
VIII.
Simple truths
and purity
I.
We've got to step outside ourselves
in order to be ourselves
Since we cannot rely on anyone
other than ourselves
to save ourselves
II.
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
III.
Living in my own customized world
Insulated from real contact
with glasses, hats and socks
Personal electronics help the tweak
IV.
Ground zeros still exist
soundtracks of personal "Live Events"
of smokes, clones and flesh
Living on parallel planes
Automatically rotating human scenery
V.
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
VI.
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
VII.
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?
VIII.
Simple truths
and purity
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
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
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
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
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
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.
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.
10.07.2003
Tiny images of vast emptiness(es)
Obsessively compulsively spinning in doomed circles
Thoughts wander without purpose nor focus
If it is a leisurely life sought
prepare for hard work ahead
Barters for coffee
Punishment for tea
It's good to live inland
For fear of the sea
Looking upwards to a pinprick of light
Waiting waiting for events foretold
By passing gypsies and assorted pickpockets
Concurrent wearing and aging and dying too
A depression as wide as deep
Obsessively compulsively spinning in doomed circles
Thoughts wander without purpose nor focus
If it is a leisurely life sought
prepare for hard work ahead
Barters for coffee
Punishment for tea
It's good to live inland
For fear of the sea
Looking upwards to a pinprick of light
Waiting waiting for events foretold
By passing gypsies and assorted pickpockets
Concurrent wearing and aging and dying too
A depression as wide as deep
10.03.2003
9.26.2003
To simplify
Reducing things to fundamental elements
But – as with all things human – where
Are lines drawn?
Who minds the limits
Who minds boundaries
Endless analyses and questioning
Antithesis of simplicity and
Complication’s very bestest pal – collaborators
Much more organic than synthesized
The two over the one
Water dripping onto black holes
And kicking at clouds
Batteries on last legs
Despite myths of desperate
Last ditch surges
Simplicity of the end of conservation
Reducing things to fundamental elements
But – as with all things human – where
Are lines drawn?
Who minds the limits
Who minds boundaries
Endless analyses and questioning
Antithesis of simplicity and
Complication’s very bestest pal – collaborators
Much more organic than synthesized
The two over the one
Water dripping onto black holes
And kicking at clouds
Batteries on last legs
Despite myths of desperate
Last ditch surges
Simplicity of the end of conservation
To be among the family again
The comfort in knowledge of affinity
So eager the tears – welling
My only mistakes are in timing as always
But the wonderment is worth the waiting
Subtle like eyebrows feet or thighs
Panache spilling over authentic
Able to be only myself without act
Sadness temporarily interrupted by life real
Interrupted by the time moving forward
Awakening mid afternoon in time for teas
Open except inside my secured fortress
The kids today…
Will they know what I know ever?
What I will never know?
Is recapitulation and endless loop of
Stills wound fast – a horse in full gallop?
The edge of caffeine-induced vomit
In a former grand ballroom painted
With cheap green and furnished
With thrift store furniture
Middlespace is a half-eaten carrot cake
For instance or the doubts of matter
Again my time is expiring here
The meter running out – alarms sounding
And the sadness will return (sigh)
Accept
Or
Stop
The comfort in knowledge of affinity
So eager the tears – welling
My only mistakes are in timing as always
But the wonderment is worth the waiting
Subtle like eyebrows feet or thighs
Panache spilling over authentic
Able to be only myself without act
Sadness temporarily interrupted by life real
Interrupted by the time moving forward
Awakening mid afternoon in time for teas
Open except inside my secured fortress
The kids today…
Will they know what I know ever?
What I will never know?
Is recapitulation and endless loop of
Stills wound fast – a horse in full gallop?
The edge of caffeine-induced vomit
In a former grand ballroom painted
With cheap green and furnished
With thrift store furniture
Middlespace is a half-eaten carrot cake
For instance or the doubts of matter
Again my time is expiring here
The meter running out – alarms sounding
And the sadness will return (sigh)
Accept
Or
Stop
Another day without harm
About as big as your finger
Bleeding in and out of lucid beliefs
All the while feeling superiorly unimportant
Pathetically desperate for validation
And drowning in the ooze
Of the taste for human meats
A thing for the soft tissues and large muscles
After some coffee and some time alone
And the customary dredge for muck
A deep dank still sleep with the
Promise for rebirth awaiting
Being so full so quickly after
Being so empty so long after
Neither caring nor wanting
Is generally - and surprisingly - shocking to the system
An acceptance of selves satisfied
With sins and baggage forgiven
Peace and relief are identical twins
Joined at palms with hearts beating in unison
And there is still reason to live
About as big as your finger
Bleeding in and out of lucid beliefs
All the while feeling superiorly unimportant
Pathetically desperate for validation
And drowning in the ooze
Of the taste for human meats
A thing for the soft tissues and large muscles
After some coffee and some time alone
And the customary dredge for muck
A deep dank still sleep with the
Promise for rebirth awaiting
Being so full so quickly after
Being so empty so long after
Neither caring nor wanting
Is generally - and surprisingly - shocking to the system
An acceptance of selves satisfied
With sins and baggage forgiven
Peace and relief are identical twins
Joined at palms with hearts beating in unison
And there is still reason to live
[Previously Untitled]
Again with the thoughts
Haven’t you learned anything?
Seeping faux genius
Wandering focus
Internal conversations
Over Iowa
Of love and passion
Mean spirited interplay
Narrow shallow lives and lies
Wrong turns at junctions
Continuous debriefings
When is enough enough?
Volcanoes in clouds
Retirement is never safe
The pace is deadly
To finish my thoughts
Over the mid-western plains
Free beer and pretzels
Haven’t you learned anything?
Seeping faux genius
Wandering focus
Internal conversations
Over Iowa
Of love and passion
Mean spirited interplay
Narrow shallow lives and lies
Wrong turns at junctions
Continuous debriefings
When is enough enough?
Volcanoes in clouds
Retirement is never safe
The pace is deadly
To finish my thoughts
Over the mid-western plains
Free beer and pretzels
Heightened senses of awareness
Paranoia mediated by instincts
The depths are still frightening
Drill-down to situations not of our control
Or, maybe it's really getting scarier yet, the world
Or maybe experience teaches
Circumstances change perspectives
Evolution occurs regardless
Imagination, being what it is, has
Powerful effects on perceptions
And vice versa
The nature of things
You know, stuff, you know
Clarity is a motherfucker
Befuddling is likewise
Sharp pointy things
Running amok
Distillation is key
Simpler elemental thinking
Paranoia mediated by instincts
The depths are still frightening
Drill-down to situations not of our control
Or, maybe it's really getting scarier yet, the world
Or maybe experience teaches
Circumstances change perspectives
Evolution occurs regardless
Imagination, being what it is, has
Powerful effects on perceptions
And vice versa
The nature of things
You know, stuff, you know
Clarity is a motherfucker
Befuddling is likewise
Sharp pointy things
Running amok
Distillation is key
Simpler elemental thinking
"The California protagonist belongs to no establishment, a born renegade fond of mocking the shabby masquerades (of traffic courts and dictionaries and jails) with which the corrupt officials in city hall or Chinatown seek to imprison the noble savage dreamed of in the philosophy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau."
- Lewis H. Lapham
- Lewis H. Lapham
Triplets in my head
Pills on my mind
Politics in my brain
Although dreams from two days ago
Have begun to fade
Still I am horrified at the
Depth, detail and genius
of places I went that night
A warren of art, magic and passion
Webs of storyboard images spun
From molten metals
Like cartoon spiders answering God
Of smokes and touches
Wary interpretations of
How things should be
versus how they are
The point of decompression
Can only be found in the memories
Of dreams to make reality envious
If my brain can do that
I prefer sleeping
Pills on my mind
Politics in my brain
Although dreams from two days ago
Have begun to fade
Still I am horrified at the
Depth, detail and genius
of places I went that night
A warren of art, magic and passion
Webs of storyboard images spun
From molten metals
Like cartoon spiders answering God
Of smokes and touches
Wary interpretations of
How things should be
versus how they are
The point of decompression
Can only be found in the memories
Of dreams to make reality envious
If my brain can do that
I prefer sleeping
9.03.2003
As my daughter begins to more fully interact with this world and she begins to show personal preferences, I realize that some day she will completely embrace her life as her own, rejecting external controls and dependency structures of her parents.
She will march to the tune of her own motorcycle.
How do I know? I fully rejected my parents at seventeen, moved out and never really looked back in any substantive manner. But, until now, I never realized that on the other side, from the parental perspective, the hurt that was probably inflicted. Being the center of your personal universe for so long results in lost opportunities; lost potential of an unselfish kind.
Whether it’s when she decides to venture to Costa Rica when she’s fourteen or when she heads off to college (or the circus, for that matter), the emptiness will come suddenly and deeply. Sure, maybe she may spend holidays with us, but she will develop her own world where we are but minor components. If we get the weekly call, we will cherish like life itself. Then I will be able to die alone and afraid, surrounded by strangers.
They all say, “enjoy it while it lasts” because it won’t last forever.
Nothing does.
She will march to the tune of her own motorcycle.
How do I know? I fully rejected my parents at seventeen, moved out and never really looked back in any substantive manner. But, until now, I never realized that on the other side, from the parental perspective, the hurt that was probably inflicted. Being the center of your personal universe for so long results in lost opportunities; lost potential of an unselfish kind.
Whether it’s when she decides to venture to Costa Rica when she’s fourteen or when she heads off to college (or the circus, for that matter), the emptiness will come suddenly and deeply. Sure, maybe she may spend holidays with us, but she will develop her own world where we are but minor components. If we get the weekly call, we will cherish like life itself. Then I will be able to die alone and afraid, surrounded by strangers.
They all say, “enjoy it while it lasts” because it won’t last forever.
Nothing does.
8.29.2003
8.25.2003
The Nostalgia of Light
I noticed it, unofficially, a couple weeks ago. It was just a moment in an otherwise miserable day. But with this weekend behind, we are now in what I’m calling the nostalgic days. The air is light and the light is airy. The sky has returned to a deep unnatural blue from its vacation of milky, humid opaque. Autumn is being phased in again.
During nostalgic days the brain remembers that autumn is a time of invigorating bliss; when the cool air returns and the mosquitoes die. The shadows deepen, mornings are dark and everything becomes all contrast-y again. Breathing becomes easy and life’s woes subside. The leaves change from an overly officious uniformity of greens to a masquerade ball of individualism and whimsy that culminates in Halloween and death. In autumn, we snuggle again. We mow the fields one last time and we ride out the slide into darkness and productivity.
The threat and misery of winter is well over the horizon. The beleaguered days of the mid-Atlantic summer fades like a bad memory. Fortunately for the humans, the memories of pain are never keen. In January, we’ll all pray for July again. The shoulders, autumn and spring, make living in the east worthwhile. The monotony of hundreds of perfect California days, while glorious, faints into the background of being.
I’ve grown to appreciate the work involved in the long march to the shoulders.
I noticed it, unofficially, a couple weeks ago. It was just a moment in an otherwise miserable day. But with this weekend behind, we are now in what I’m calling the nostalgic days. The air is light and the light is airy. The sky has returned to a deep unnatural blue from its vacation of milky, humid opaque. Autumn is being phased in again.
During nostalgic days the brain remembers that autumn is a time of invigorating bliss; when the cool air returns and the mosquitoes die. The shadows deepen, mornings are dark and everything becomes all contrast-y again. Breathing becomes easy and life’s woes subside. The leaves change from an overly officious uniformity of greens to a masquerade ball of individualism and whimsy that culminates in Halloween and death. In autumn, we snuggle again. We mow the fields one last time and we ride out the slide into darkness and productivity.
The threat and misery of winter is well over the horizon. The beleaguered days of the mid-Atlantic summer fades like a bad memory. Fortunately for the humans, the memories of pain are never keen. In January, we’ll all pray for July again. The shoulders, autumn and spring, make living in the east worthwhile. The monotony of hundreds of perfect California days, while glorious, faints into the background of being.
I’ve grown to appreciate the work involved in the long march to the shoulders.
8.19.2003
Today - and, oddly, it was confirmed by all the machines - was a day of twos. Twos were everywhere. The metaphor; symbols; codes; ciphers; patterns. There was no escaping the omen. It was as clear as identical twins.
Dyad. Pair. Deuce. Dub. Dos. Twin. Both. 2. Too. A basketball shot. The peace sign. Yin/yang. Congress. Coasts. Couple. Feet. Hands. Eyes. Ears. Nostrils. Testicles. Breasts. Nipples. Knees. Clap. Stereo.
Unfortunately, obviously, I haven't made any connections yet.
Dyad. Pair. Deuce. Dub. Dos. Twin. Both. 2. Too. A basketball shot. The peace sign. Yin/yang. Congress. Coasts. Couple. Feet. Hands. Eyes. Ears. Nostrils. Testicles. Breasts. Nipples. Knees. Clap. Stereo.
Unfortunately, obviously, I haven't made any connections yet.
8.06.2003
People take vacations to the Mall of America. It's surrounded by hotels of every ilk; from the swanky to the seedy. The mall itself, from the outside is one ugly hulk of parking garages and angles. Half-assed landscaping and American flags. Shuttle buses rush backing and forthing to any of the four main entrances; old, fat, pasty white middle Americans - and their cookie cutter MTV/X-Games/hip-hop offspring depart empty handed and embark with bags from all the stores you find at any of the other seventeen million malls found from sea to shining silver dollar.
Inside, it's the most depressing place I've ever been. Worse than any two-bit casino in Reno or Atlantic City. Worse even than river boat casinos in East St. Louis. Mall of America is a big mall. Five levels. Amusement park. Gap. Victoria Secret. It's a big "So what." I took my camera to maybe get some killer black and whites of old, fat, pasty white middle Americans - and their cookie cutter MTV/X-Games/hip-hop offspring...shopping. I took no pictures.
Yeah, personal shop-bots. Teen to twenties bleach-blonds to smile broadly and pace your personal shopping experience. You book an hour, shop-bots help you shop forever. The exits aren't marked. Why bother leaving if you still have money or haven't maxed out your thirty-two credit cards that you were pre-approved for sometime back when? Don't forget the food court.
Inside, it's the most depressing place I've ever been. Worse than any two-bit casino in Reno or Atlantic City. Worse even than river boat casinos in East St. Louis. Mall of America is a big mall. Five levels. Amusement park. Gap. Victoria Secret. It's a big "So what." I took my camera to maybe get some killer black and whites of old, fat, pasty white middle Americans - and their cookie cutter MTV/X-Games/hip-hop offspring...shopping. I took no pictures.
Yeah, personal shop-bots. Teen to twenties bleach-blonds to smile broadly and pace your personal shopping experience. You book an hour, shop-bots help you shop forever. The exits aren't marked. Why bother leaving if you still have money or haven't maxed out your thirty-two credit cards that you were pre-approved for sometime back when? Don't forget the food court.
8.05.2003
Dearest Rich,
You see, I love your Ween.
It's always been hard for me because I've always considered Ween to be your band. Like in any relationship, individuals bring something in. Flatware, CDs, the VCR, a dog, nipple clamps, etc. You always shared Ween, but it was always somehow yours to share. Then one day, I took your Ween out for a spin and fell in love with your Ween.
You never complained and even graciously encouraged me to snort your Ween. But, I always felt a bit guilty. You know...awkward. I didn't want to schnebble all your Ween or nothin', but once I ate one, I couldn't stop.
So, thanks for letting me smoke all your Ween, sucka. I keeping it all for myself and not giving any back.
Your pal,
-tyrone
P.S. Fuck!
You see, I love your Ween.
It's always been hard for me because I've always considered Ween to be your band. Like in any relationship, individuals bring something in. Flatware, CDs, the VCR, a dog, nipple clamps, etc. You always shared Ween, but it was always somehow yours to share. Then one day, I took your Ween out for a spin and fell in love with your Ween.
You never complained and even graciously encouraged me to snort your Ween. But, I always felt a bit guilty. You know...awkward. I didn't want to schnebble all your Ween or nothin', but once I ate one, I couldn't stop.
So, thanks for letting me smoke all your Ween, sucka. I keeping it all for myself and not giving any back.
Your pal,
-tyrone
P.S. Fuck!
8.04.2003
07.31.03
The production-consumption ration
Still unsettled after all these decades
Intense weight on psyches
And fatigue on internal components
Dreams
As black as void
As white as all
As dead as nothing
As past as history
Since it is always fiction
Contrived since inception
To be feared when not ignored
Reality is the real god
True as truth
One-quarter of a beat ahead
With full commitment realized
Blissfully floating above human topography
The production-consumption ration
Still unsettled after all these decades
Intense weight on psyches
And fatigue on internal components
Dreams
As black as void
As white as all
As dead as nothing
As past as history
Since it is always fiction
Contrived since inception
To be feared when not ignored
Reality is the real god
True as truth
One-quarter of a beat ahead
With full commitment realized
Blissfully floating above human topography
07.31.03
what is whole is
contingent of personal glossary entries
if space is time
experienced through spot lighted
cargo holds of hurling humans
eastward-bound together coincidentally
mind’s eye memories of hallucinations
but beautiful symmetry nonetheless
perfect logic clearly communicated
yeah, I’m terrified too
but, unfortunately, this is what we left you
if you can remedy, please
what is whole is
contingent of personal glossary entries
if space is time
experienced through spot lighted
cargo holds of hurling humans
eastward-bound together coincidentally
mind’s eye memories of hallucinations
but beautiful symmetry nonetheless
perfect logic clearly communicated
yeah, I’m terrified too
but, unfortunately, this is what we left you
if you can remedy, please
07.31.03
Prolog:
Walking sticks for a modern age
Skateboard shoes to mark my rage
Undercover mainstream tax-paying yellow belly
Forgetting at all to remember my age
Body:
Taking for granted the walking and talking
I kiss the rig of gods and
Try to put aside speculation of
Variants of fate without much success
What would change?
Often I awake to new realities
In different places alone or
Trapped in the prisons of mind or body
Empathy to a degree of unbelievable proportions
A hot, persistent, dry wind
Under blue skies in places
Where our society has created
Drawers in which we can
Hide all that appears to be untidy
Epilog:
Steely persistence after all the tears
Prolog:
Walking sticks for a modern age
Skateboard shoes to mark my rage
Undercover mainstream tax-paying yellow belly
Forgetting at all to remember my age
Body:
Taking for granted the walking and talking
I kiss the rig of gods and
Try to put aside speculation of
Variants of fate without much success
What would change?
Often I awake to new realities
In different places alone or
Trapped in the prisons of mind or body
Empathy to a degree of unbelievable proportions
A hot, persistent, dry wind
Under blue skies in places
Where our society has created
Drawers in which we can
Hide all that appears to be untidy
Epilog:
Steely persistence after all the tears
07.31.03
You cannot help what's in your nature
Ahh, jah Rasta man sing-song life
From Damascus to Kashmir
Will I become so wholly eccentric
and woefully low self-monitoring?
Consequences of vanity run amok
With no restraints tied to ego
Or class or career
Just as long as I remember
To wear pants on a daily basis
And remain mindful of clichés and
Refrain from singing aloud too often
Since it was all over even
Before it all began
My efforts can be relieved
Of the burden of giving
A rat’s ass
You cannot help what's in your nature
Ahh, jah Rasta man sing-song life
From Damascus to Kashmir
Will I become so wholly eccentric
and woefully low self-monitoring?
Consequences of vanity run amok
With no restraints tied to ego
Or class or career
Just as long as I remember
To wear pants on a daily basis
And remain mindful of clichés and
Refrain from singing aloud too often
Since it was all over even
Before it all began
My efforts can be relieved
Of the burden of giving
A rat’s ass
Minnesota Blue(s) 07.30-31.03
Dying
All inside going deeper now
Heros not what they used to be
Drooling wizards of the north star state
Trapped like visitors to new planets
Shopping
With heads buried in sands
Sanctioned by the president and the other Hitlers
My very worst enemy a codependent me
Wanting without the why-ing
Bleeding
All ideas opinions beliefs creativity
From my anus
When the toilets do not flush
And snacks are forbidden in this motel
Hiding
From the masses of truths
Of the reinvented American century
Only to awake alone and sweaty
And so fundamentally detached
Running
Concentric circles around the
Moon and the sun so red
Suicide and chronic depression are
Only theater for drama queens
Dying
All inside going deeper now
Heros not what they used to be
Drooling wizards of the north star state
Trapped like visitors to new planets
Shopping
With heads buried in sands
Sanctioned by the president and the other Hitlers
My very worst enemy a codependent me
Wanting without the why-ing
Bleeding
All ideas opinions beliefs creativity
From my anus
When the toilets do not flush
And snacks are forbidden in this motel
Hiding
From the masses of truths
Of the reinvented American century
Only to awake alone and sweaty
And so fundamentally detached
Running
Concentric circles around the
Moon and the sun so red
Suicide and chronic depression are
Only theater for drama queens
7.24.2003
God Bless Me?! 07.21.03
Is it not you
So young and impressionable
Supple and porous
Glaring at me with
That glazed one-yard stare?
Hypnotized with promises
Of eternal life
Wings, harps and visits with dearly departed grandma
Always absolutely right AND
Correct beyond debate
A mere child looking down
Your nose with pity
At what has to be
A heathen of the grandest scale
Me beyond belief
Is it not you
So young and impressionable
Supple and porous
Glaring at me with
That glazed one-yard stare?
Hypnotized with promises
Of eternal life
Wings, harps and visits with dearly departed grandma
Always absolutely right AND
Correct beyond debate
A mere child looking down
Your nose with pity
At what has to be
A heathen of the grandest scale
Me beyond belief
Untitled 06.23.03
Long ago I realized just how truly
Pathetic I am
We all are
I have been at the paramount JUST long enough
And JUST enough times that I know what I’m missing
It goes way back – to the day
Lives of self-censored lies
What is real happens to be real
Although I try to live I ultimately
Fail time and time again to fulfill potential
But now I no longer care
Long ago I realized just how truly
Pathetic I am
We all are
I have been at the paramount JUST long enough
And JUST enough times that I know what I’m missing
It goes way back – to the day
Lives of self-censored lies
What is real happens to be real
Although I try to live I ultimately
Fail time and time again to fulfill potential
But now I no longer care
Deconstruction 06.23.03
When it starts to break down
It really snowballs from here
From outside outliers to the inner circles
of questionable deal making and promises broken
To that filthy coating of oils and sins
that tends to cover you from neck to knee
When it starts to break down
It really flows like lava with
relentless power and electricity
Pretensions balanced on delicate fulcrums
Played pop hits of the retro ages
I have become like the recipient of spewed venom
We bring me here for checks
And balances proves far from simple
Nothing is ever simple anymore
Even sleep proves elusive
I feel the effects of mileage
I have to be near the end of lines
Like water that appears to very flat
When all along it is so round
And endless
like nightmares
When it starts to break down
It really snowballs from here
From outside outliers to the inner circles
of questionable deal making and promises broken
To that filthy coating of oils and sins
that tends to cover you from neck to knee
When it starts to break down
It really flows like lava with
relentless power and electricity
Pretensions balanced on delicate fulcrums
Played pop hits of the retro ages
I have become like the recipient of spewed venom
We bring me here for checks
And balances proves far from simple
Nothing is ever simple anymore
Even sleep proves elusive
I feel the effects of mileage
I have to be near the end of lines
Like water that appears to very flat
When all along it is so round
And endless
like nightmares
6.30.2003
Filthy fingers of newsprint and recycled contaminants
Mind blindingly void of thoughts of merit
Dirty. Everything so post-pristine
Indictments of our inner souls
Of god and money and choices hard
And exclusive of peace intra or extra
When did religion and government incorporate?
One would have predicted (from here)
That clarity and simplicity would prevail
Yet only awe-struck bewilderment at
Self-imposed complexities are evident
Confusion over time is exponential
Experience loads the burden of morality
Logic and history suggest a vicious defeat
Punishment for our collective self-contempt
Even the old guy said it is the end of time
Yet my maso-optimism borders on despair
I lie awake in wonder and anticipation
Mind blindingly void of thoughts of merit
Dirty. Everything so post-pristine
Indictments of our inner souls
Of god and money and choices hard
And exclusive of peace intra or extra
When did religion and government incorporate?
One would have predicted (from here)
That clarity and simplicity would prevail
Yet only awe-struck bewilderment at
Self-imposed complexities are evident
Confusion over time is exponential
Experience loads the burden of morality
Logic and history suggest a vicious defeat
Punishment for our collective self-contempt
Even the old guy said it is the end of time
Yet my maso-optimism borders on despair
I lie awake in wonder and anticipation
6.20.2003
6.09.2003
4.28.2003
Yep. That IS interesting stuff. "The journey" is always fabulously interesting.
Global stuff is great, but so is the US spectrum of "journey."
Whether it is the original or subsequent populating of the continent or the migration forks - south to north - of the Mexicans or former slave blacks.
Then, there are the personal journeys. Nepal to Chicago; Los Angeles to Gaithersburg.
The Journey.
Global stuff is great, but so is the US spectrum of "journey."
Whether it is the original or subsequent populating of the continent or the migration forks - south to north - of the Mexicans or former slave blacks.
Then, there are the personal journeys. Nepal to Chicago; Los Angeles to Gaithersburg.
The Journey.
4.25.2003
4.04.2003
Losing your home
Like losing your mind
Leaves the memory damaged
Recall analogous to silvery colanders
Images roughly similar
But surprisingly different
The way illuminated
Like dreams
The homeless mayor
Of cities past and present
Lost and anonymous
Amid successors anew
Going back is never an option
Like losing your mind
Leaves the memory damaged
Recall analogous to silvery colanders
Images roughly similar
But surprisingly different
The way illuminated
Like dreams
The homeless mayor
Of cities past and present
Lost and anonymous
Amid successors anew
Going back is never an option
3.27.2003
"For their materials, for the art world, for school, for the macrocosm of art school. I mean, schools to show you how to be an artist? What the hell is that?"
"The artists I like are the ones who have done their work in secret who have been secretly and quietly doing something. They have work that would be difficult to sell or even show -- they have that purity...you have to go into people's secret diaries and get them to show you things they're afraid to show."
-Joseph Mills
"The artists I like are the ones who have done their work in secret who have been secretly and quietly doing something. They have work that would be difficult to sell or even show -- they have that purity...you have to go into people's secret diaries and get them to show you things they're afraid to show."
-Joseph Mills
3.26.2003
3.05.2003
Senate Study Explains Spike in Oil Prices
do you remember my ramblings back in the corner days about the "great petroleum wars?" about how the oil companies would become the government - distinctions blurred.
you know, back in the days when we believed we predicted the future.
do you remember my ramblings back in the corner days about the "great petroleum wars?" about how the oil companies would become the government - distinctions blurred.
you know, back in the days when we believed we predicted the future.
3.04.2003
2.24.2003
"I've liked taking drugs for a good long while and it's pretty much always, apart from the few freakouts, been really valuable on the level of this kind of responsiveness to place.... Of course, you can just mess it up. I'm quite drawn to the confusion that drug use can lead to.... That in itself provides insight into a contemporary malaise."
-Geoff Dyer
-Geoff Dyer
The birds are starting to come back. And thank goodness too.
As kids in business suits talk into their hands. An audience indifferent.
Inspiration found in dreams and the middlespaces of not-quite-wakeful moments.
Spring is, well, springing fourth. Slowly, at first, but then at an unbelievable pace.
I kiss the ground I stand upon in thanks for my unbelievable luck and the goodness thrust upon me.
As kids in business suits talk into their hands. An audience indifferent.
Inspiration found in dreams and the middlespaces of not-quite-wakeful moments.
Spring is, well, springing fourth. Slowly, at first, but then at an unbelievable pace.
I kiss the ground I stand upon in thanks for my unbelievable luck and the goodness thrust upon me.
2.21.2003
2.04.2003
1.29.2003
1.02.2003
12.30.2002
12.12.2002
[Post Originally Untitled]
actually, nothing much to say, but here goes:
- belts are addictive
- puppies were a hoax
- belts are addictive
- puppies were a hoax
11.21.2002
11.14.2002
11.04.2002
What I have learned is that when Anne has something to say, it's always worth a good listen and a serious consideration. She's the most thoughtful (full of thought) person I know. Thus, she's often spot on with the important stuff. I cherish her opinion even when my own stubborn personality results in bad personal decisions or foolhardy gambles. And, she's never said "I told you so."
Where have we gone? If the senate flips and the house holds, we've got serious problems as Americans. In Maryland, democratic voters outnumber republicans 5-to-1 and Ehrlich is out-polling Townsend. And, Connie, dear Connie will probably win the 8th district...again. Where are we going? The saddest part is we, as Americans, have given up. We have numbed ourselves to the obvious and have taken the easy route to our own demise. Most of the educated world look upon us, collectively, as suicidal idiots.
I've said many times during Bush's (Bush Jr.) tenure that I wish I were dumb and didn't process all the mayhem. But, I ain't and I do. It's a mess and it may get a whole lot uglier. The beautiful thing is, experts project the lowest voter turnout in 60 years - since World War II, when the voting population was but a fraction of those eligible now.
I cringe when I think of Junior flying all over the country, poorly reading buzz phrases to cheering and adoring audiences or zealots and hand-picked campaign stooges. I cringe when I think of how my taxes are spent. I cringe when I see the little man on the TeeVee and I hold my breath and hold my nose while I listen to random words and phrases that make no sense to me or to him. I want to cry as much as I want to laugh.
It may not be in my lifetime, but the big karma pendulum is bound to swing back someday. At least, that's what gets me through the day.
Where have we gone? If the senate flips and the house holds, we've got serious problems as Americans. In Maryland, democratic voters outnumber republicans 5-to-1 and Ehrlich is out-polling Townsend. And, Connie, dear Connie will probably win the 8th district...again. Where are we going? The saddest part is we, as Americans, have given up. We have numbed ourselves to the obvious and have taken the easy route to our own demise. Most of the educated world look upon us, collectively, as suicidal idiots.
I've said many times during Bush's (Bush Jr.) tenure that I wish I were dumb and didn't process all the mayhem. But, I ain't and I do. It's a mess and it may get a whole lot uglier. The beautiful thing is, experts project the lowest voter turnout in 60 years - since World War II, when the voting population was but a fraction of those eligible now.
I cringe when I think of Junior flying all over the country, poorly reading buzz phrases to cheering and adoring audiences or zealots and hand-picked campaign stooges. I cringe when I think of how my taxes are spent. I cringe when I see the little man on the TeeVee and I hold my breath and hold my nose while I listen to random words and phrases that make no sense to me or to him. I want to cry as much as I want to laugh.
It may not be in my lifetime, but the big karma pendulum is bound to swing back someday. At least, that's what gets me through the day.
10.24.2002
For the very first time
I am not enjoying my birthday
Historically it has been
A month-long celebration
With giddy anticipation beforeward
And
Giggly memories afterhand
I do not mind the getting older aspect
I cherish that
I am blessed with good friends
And a wondrous family
I have no private complaints
But I am weary
So worn and weak
My mind sleeps in the day
Any my body fails in the eve
This birthday floats with resentment
It would be wholly selfish
To celebrate things only personally
relevant
Sharing only my joy
Taking without giving
A life spanned by anchors
Leeuwenhoek to Robinson
Naked between the ears
Deaf to the rumblings
on earth
Happy birthday to me
Will we ever learn
10.22.2002
I read it on the BBC
So it must be true
Our universe is doomed to collapse
Dark energy surviving
In place of all that ever…was
In a mere ten to twenty
Billion years
So I must say my goodbyes and I-love-yous now
Because I have many to say
They say the Nazis built an antigravity device
During World War II
Its absence from present science
Implies vast black worlds of secret aircraft
That might explain the UFOs people see
Over Area 51
Or the hidden tunnels under the White House
Full of lizard-men disguised as Freemasons
And a sniper is hunting me
For sins long ago committed
Stuff I swear was prayed away
In past lives
But as long as I keep running
No one will catch me
No one can catch me
So it must be true
Our universe is doomed to collapse
Dark energy surviving
In place of all that ever…was
In a mere ten to twenty
Billion years
So I must say my goodbyes and I-love-yous now
Because I have many to say
They say the Nazis built an antigravity device
During World War II
Its absence from present science
Implies vast black worlds of secret aircraft
That might explain the UFOs people see
Over Area 51
Or the hidden tunnels under the White House
Full of lizard-men disguised as Freemasons
And a sniper is hunting me
For sins long ago committed
Stuff I swear was prayed away
In past lives
But as long as I keep running
No one will catch me
No one can catch me
10.08.2002
An Abt colleague asked me the following three questions:
1) Why would I want to be on the EAC?
2) What makes this [EAC] different from any other well meaning, but ineffective committee?
3) Is the management so out of touch with the company that it needs to form a committee to report to it or is it just another bone from uncaring bean counters?
I open this question to all candidates. I'll begin:
1) I am nominating myself because I would like to actually see this council work (literally and figuratively). People have to believe that it will work. The council needs to lead. I maintain a healthy skepticism about many things in our world and I believe EAC will work if the appropriate effort is expended. This committee needs to be diverse in many ways and possess a collective goal-oriented ethic.
2) It is important for representatives to remember who they have been elected to represent. They are the voice of many. We have seen far too often, representative bodies (congress, for example) misrepresent their constitutes or only represent especially vocal special interests. I see it as my duty to move beyond dead-end, wheel-spinning committee work.
We need to make an effort to re-engage the employees of this company. The EAC representative - and I will do this if elected - must make an effort to meet and discuss concerns with each and every employee in their district. Surveys are great but one-on-one interactions provide the most robust data. Surely, some people will not want to participate, and we cannot force this, but it is our duty to make an earnest attempt to thoughtfully invigorate our telecommuting employees and the staff of the DC and Bethesda offices.
3) I've seen people roll their eyes and voice that we really don't need more committees. People sometimes take the time to complain, but not the time to learn or change. We need to make Abt more than just a place to work. I envision Abt as an intellectually stimulating, cross-pollinating, hotbed of pragmatic and progressive thought - the kind of place that is attractive to employee candidates and to potential clients. I've felt that the company has always had pockets of community, but we need to truly become more inclusive.
People see "management" as a sort of all-knowing (or un-knowing), unapproachable enigma. We are all people and we need to engage management as people first - not as a group that is fundamentally different. We are all working toward the same goals. As employee-owners of Abt, we must synthesize our attitudes and our behaviors as such. Participation, and I cannot emphasize this enough, is essential. We need to remain pragmatic while striving for higher goals.
1) Why would I want to be on the EAC?
2) What makes this [EAC] different from any other well meaning, but ineffective committee?
3) Is the management so out of touch with the company that it needs to form a committee to report to it or is it just another bone from uncaring bean counters?
I open this question to all candidates. I'll begin:
1) I am nominating myself because I would like to actually see this council work (literally and figuratively). People have to believe that it will work. The council needs to lead. I maintain a healthy skepticism about many things in our world and I believe EAC will work if the appropriate effort is expended. This committee needs to be diverse in many ways and possess a collective goal-oriented ethic.
2) It is important for representatives to remember who they have been elected to represent. They are the voice of many. We have seen far too often, representative bodies (congress, for example) misrepresent their constitutes or only represent especially vocal special interests. I see it as my duty to move beyond dead-end, wheel-spinning committee work.
We need to make an effort to re-engage the employees of this company. The EAC representative - and I will do this if elected - must make an effort to meet and discuss concerns with each and every employee in their district. Surveys are great but one-on-one interactions provide the most robust data. Surely, some people will not want to participate, and we cannot force this, but it is our duty to make an earnest attempt to thoughtfully invigorate our telecommuting employees and the staff of the DC and Bethesda offices.
3) I've seen people roll their eyes and voice that we really don't need more committees. People sometimes take the time to complain, but not the time to learn or change. We need to make Abt more than just a place to work. I envision Abt as an intellectually stimulating, cross-pollinating, hotbed of pragmatic and progressive thought - the kind of place that is attractive to employee candidates and to potential clients. I've felt that the company has always had pockets of community, but we need to truly become more inclusive.
People see "management" as a sort of all-knowing (or un-knowing), unapproachable enigma. We are all people and we need to engage management as people first - not as a group that is fundamentally different. We are all working toward the same goals. As employee-owners of Abt, we must synthesize our attitudes and our behaviors as such. Participation, and I cannot emphasize this enough, is essential. We need to remain pragmatic while striving for higher goals.
10.04.2002
Today's best illegally posted sign:
"Can I use our Army for my personal grudge too."
"Other countries of course, bear the same risk. But there's no doubt his hatred is mainly directed at us," Bush said at a political fundraiser in Houston, Texas. "After all this is the guy who tried to kill my dad." - September 27, 2002
"Can I use our Army for my personal grudge too."
"Other countries of course, bear the same risk. But there's no doubt his hatred is mainly directed at us," Bush said at a political fundraiser in Houston, Texas. "After all this is the guy who tried to kill my dad." - September 27, 2002
9.23.2002
Previously Untitled Post
MIDDLESPACE - the space between
So, I am routinely bombarded with "funny" forwarded e-mailings (from "friends"). For some reason people think I find this stuff amusing. Sadly, sometimes I do. Often, I delete these messages before even I read it. I cannot summon the words to ask well meaning people to stop sending them.
Today, I received: "things youd love to say at work but can't" [sic]. You know the kind:
>7. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message...
>15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.
>25. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
But, one I found particularly poignant and thought provoking for some odd reason; one that sums up my experience is:
>38. I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted paychecks.
How interesting. You never know what route inspiration will take. What the hell is career?
Career: The general course or progression of one's working life or one's professional achievements.
We've been somehow trained to find one thing in our lives, focus on that and do it forever. No diversity, no change. In some corners of our culture it's still admirable to work for the same organization until retirement. Loyalty is a virtue - then we die. We should all have careers and be professional, right? We can be career professionals. That's what I will tell people I "do" when I am asked, "so, what do you do?" I am a career professional! My college major was: Professional Careerism.
Professional: Engaging in a given activity as a source of livelihood or as a career.
I am sitting here because they pay me to sit here.
All I want to really do is make things. Call it art or a calling or my passion, but I just want to spend most of my time making things. I want to make more records - recordings with sounds and songs, I want to take photographs. I want to paint, film things and built odd or useful objects. I want to integrate all medium while ignoring the conventions and cliches of medium. I want to write. I want to juxtapose. I want to think.
In return, I am not really interested in selling any of it or really having much exposure. I know enough people that may or may not enjoy my work. I know enough people to push it on. Most people won't get it anyway. Uh, the questions, "what does it mean?" Hell if I know. What does your nose mean? I just want to do what is already trying to squeeze from my fingers and from my head. It's like breathing...what does breathing mean? Ask yourself what does meaning mean.
Okay, for the first time I will tell everyone what it all means. Simultaneously, it means everything while meaning absolutely nothing. I am not a career professional in reality interpretation. It means what it means...to you. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
I want time. Like fire, we've done a good taming of time; but it is still wild and dangerous when inclined to it's true, feral nature. Where does it go?
Time is my fire.
Thank you for your time.
>>ty.hardaway
So, I am routinely bombarded with "funny" forwarded e-mailings (from "friends"). For some reason people think I find this stuff amusing. Sadly, sometimes I do. Often, I delete these messages before even I read it. I cannot summon the words to ask well meaning people to stop sending them.
Today, I received: "things youd love to say at work but can't" [sic]. You know the kind:
>7. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message...
>15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.
>25. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
But, one I found particularly poignant and thought provoking for some odd reason; one that sums up my experience is:
>38. I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted paychecks.
How interesting. You never know what route inspiration will take. What the hell is career?
Career: The general course or progression of one's working life or one's professional achievements.
We've been somehow trained to find one thing in our lives, focus on that and do it forever. No diversity, no change. In some corners of our culture it's still admirable to work for the same organization until retirement. Loyalty is a virtue - then we die. We should all have careers and be professional, right? We can be career professionals. That's what I will tell people I "do" when I am asked, "so, what do you do?" I am a career professional! My college major was: Professional Careerism.
Professional: Engaging in a given activity as a source of livelihood or as a career.
I am sitting here because they pay me to sit here.
All I want to really do is make things. Call it art or a calling or my passion, but I just want to spend most of my time making things. I want to make more records - recordings with sounds and songs, I want to take photographs. I want to paint, film things and built odd or useful objects. I want to integrate all medium while ignoring the conventions and cliches of medium. I want to write. I want to juxtapose. I want to think.
In return, I am not really interested in selling any of it or really having much exposure. I know enough people that may or may not enjoy my work. I know enough people to push it on. Most people won't get it anyway. Uh, the questions, "what does it mean?" Hell if I know. What does your nose mean? I just want to do what is already trying to squeeze from my fingers and from my head. It's like breathing...what does breathing mean? Ask yourself what does meaning mean.
Okay, for the first time I will tell everyone what it all means. Simultaneously, it means everything while meaning absolutely nothing. I am not a career professional in reality interpretation. It means what it means...to you. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
I want time. Like fire, we've done a good taming of time; but it is still wild and dangerous when inclined to it's true, feral nature. Where does it go?
Time is my fire.
Thank you for your time.
>>ty.hardaway
9.18.2002
9.16.2002
Google
"It's true that a certain caution had crept into my life. Because of the penury that my slacker ways had brought me, I had been disguising myself as an adult in order to make money. The disguise had been getting better and better. For a period, I wore ties and slacks and leather shoes. In an epic gesture of accommodation, I had cut my hair. But even though I no longer looked particularly young, I thought my pedigree of youthfulness shined through."
- Cary Tennis, Salon
"It's true that a certain caution had crept into my life. Because of the penury that my slacker ways had brought me, I had been disguising myself as an adult in order to make money. The disguise had been getting better and better. For a period, I wore ties and slacks and leather shoes. In an epic gesture of accommodation, I had cut my hair. But even though I no longer looked particularly young, I thought my pedigree of youthfulness shined through."
- Cary Tennis, Salon
9.11.2002
9/11
because of the anger unwarranted
the frustration boils over
the pot steaming, red and bitter
if everyone were like me
i would be one of them
so my positions hold - guarded
i cared because i do
without ally nor foe
only the raging, one-sided
debate waged between temples
the lust of power is the lust for death
winds heavy with clinging summer
the ache imagined more hurtful than
the pain realized
no answers no questions
only lies and perceptions
if i hate them perhaps i hate myself
Blind Date - Don't fetishize Sept. 11. By William Saletan
Alvaro,
William Saletan at Slate eloquently writes what I was feeling about this weepy, groveling "moment of silence" business:
"When we fetishize anniversaries, we risk squandering their lessons. We focus on the kind of attack we suffered that day—a massive strike by a nation-state, a plane hijacking by Arabs—losing sight of different enemies and methods more likely to follow. We imagine that the problem we face began on the day we were struck, forgetting the years beforehand in which it plagued other regions. And we foster an illusion that the story is over. Sept. 11 threatens to do for terrorism what Mother's Day does for motherhood: liberate us from thinking about it 364 days a year."
No. It’s not that I am "cold" to this situation. I recognize that it is my obligation as an American to persevere, not roll over and urinate all over myself with grief. I don't need Wendell or Bush or anyone else telling me how and when to mourn. I have that covered. This "war on terrorism" is not over. The domestic war on freedom is not over. Let's not turn September 11 into a made-for-Hallmark holiday. Next year, we'll all give cards and gifts, perhaps put our 9/11 presents under our 9/11 tree.
I grieve and reflect on "nine-eleven" all the time - every day, in fact. This world, my place in it, my child's place is something I take seriously and thoughtfully. This paltry, "minute of silence" disgraces the memories of the slaughtered. And, this American flag nonsense? Where do I start? This is exactly the problem. Us against Them. It's not about America. It's about all of us; the entire world. I do not have to wear a flag pin - or, worse: put a flag on my Arab oil guzzling SUV - to be a patriot.
In fact, by not being a lemming, I exemplify America.
Your friend,
-ty
Alvaro,
William Saletan at Slate eloquently writes what I was feeling about this weepy, groveling "moment of silence" business:
"When we fetishize anniversaries, we risk squandering their lessons. We focus on the kind of attack we suffered that day—a massive strike by a nation-state, a plane hijacking by Arabs—losing sight of different enemies and methods more likely to follow. We imagine that the problem we face began on the day we were struck, forgetting the years beforehand in which it plagued other regions. And we foster an illusion that the story is over. Sept. 11 threatens to do for terrorism what Mother's Day does for motherhood: liberate us from thinking about it 364 days a year."
No. It’s not that I am "cold" to this situation. I recognize that it is my obligation as an American to persevere, not roll over and urinate all over myself with grief. I don't need Wendell or Bush or anyone else telling me how and when to mourn. I have that covered. This "war on terrorism" is not over. The domestic war on freedom is not over. Let's not turn September 11 into a made-for-Hallmark holiday. Next year, we'll all give cards and gifts, perhaps put our 9/11 presents under our 9/11 tree.
I grieve and reflect on "nine-eleven" all the time - every day, in fact. This world, my place in it, my child's place is something I take seriously and thoughtfully. This paltry, "minute of silence" disgraces the memories of the slaughtered. And, this American flag nonsense? Where do I start? This is exactly the problem. Us against Them. It's not about America. It's about all of us; the entire world. I do not have to wear a flag pin - or, worse: put a flag on my Arab oil guzzling SUV - to be a patriot.
In fact, by not being a lemming, I exemplify America.
Your friend,
-ty
9.06.2002
four
Nothing chokes all the blood from your spirit like a little baby, your little baby, your one and only newborn daughter, crying her eyes out - tears pooling in her eyes and dripping down her little, chubby cheeks. Her eyes shimmering in the fluorescent lighting of the hospital lab - lucidly staring into yours as if begging for help. As she bawls, her outstretched hand shakes and her body stiffens. As the phlebotomist feels around for a vein through the baby fat in her bound arm, she assures you that your progeny is only crying because she's being held still; not because the procedure causes her physical pain. We all know needles hurt but the "big comforting lie" actually relieves. The wails penetrate every cell of your being. You hurt - ache - sear for her. You'd take pain a thousand times over to spare her this moment. You tell her everything is fine and remind her that she is a fearless, tough and wondrous girl even though she cannot understand a word you say.
Then it ends. And life continues. She'll never remember it. I will forever.
Nothing chokes all the blood from your spirit like a little baby, your little baby, your one and only newborn daughter, crying her eyes out - tears pooling in her eyes and dripping down her little, chubby cheeks. Her eyes shimmering in the fluorescent lighting of the hospital lab - lucidly staring into yours as if begging for help. As she bawls, her outstretched hand shakes and her body stiffens. As the phlebotomist feels around for a vein through the baby fat in her bound arm, she assures you that your progeny is only crying because she's being held still; not because the procedure causes her physical pain. We all know needles hurt but the "big comforting lie" actually relieves. The wails penetrate every cell of your being. You hurt - ache - sear for her. You'd take pain a thousand times over to spare her this moment. You tell her everything is fine and remind her that she is a fearless, tough and wondrous girl even though she cannot understand a word you say.
Then it ends. And life continues. She'll never remember it. I will forever.
8.29.2002
Jeff Harris
was having problems with the hall smell in my old apartment. old obese cat-owning neighbor is a slob. so found a solution in moving a floor below.
newer carpet, more closet space in the new apt helped make the desire to move more resolute.
was having problems with the hall smell in my old apartment. old obese cat-owning neighbor is a slob. so found a solution in moving a floor below.
newer carpet, more closet space in the new apt helped make the desire to move more resolute.
8.23.2002
trapped in this dense and prohibitive world
like duct taped into a burlap sack
after a severe and most violent beating
limp and lifeless pre-corpse
waiting for the splash or bang
of the beginning of the end
waiting
sleep walking through years of
cognitive poverty and sensory underwhelm
conserving resources until necessity diminishes
alone in vision of world satisfaction
and greed abatement
eyes crusted shut with loath of it all
8.22.2002
Growbag...
Rats rotting on the streets of Bethesda
Guts hurting with desires
Mood as ill as night in winter
As I hurl face-first into a sort of madness
Unknown
Alternating like current between
Not caring and caring too much
We bet our reputations on
Our integrity and merit
Or so we are led to aspire
The risks taken include
The possibility of relationships
Exploding like land mines
Crippling and killing indiscriminately
Que sera
Just when I began to settle into this place
I discover no rugs – or even floors below
Just empty spaces to hover in
Dead and alone again
Desperate from necessity
Rats rotting on the streets of Bethesda
Guts hurting with desires
Mood as ill as night in winter
As I hurl face-first into a sort of madness
Unknown
Alternating like current between
Not caring and caring too much
We bet our reputations on
Our integrity and merit
Or so we are led to aspire
The risks taken include
The possibility of relationships
Exploding like land mines
Crippling and killing indiscriminately
Que sera
Just when I began to settle into this place
I discover no rugs – or even floors below
Just empty spaces to hover in
Dead and alone again
Desperate from necessity
8.19.2002
Ty, my fellow Californian-
Thanks for the great lunch, the multiple CDs, but most of all for just being you. Having a Claremont guy around to keep the east coast in prespective was extremely helpful and comforting.
Give me a buzz if you get out to LA for a visit, work or otherwise.
Peace. "You check out anytime you like, but you can never leave..."
Mike B.
Ty Hardaway
08/16/2002 12:45 PM
To: All HCR Bethesda
cc:
Subject: Thai Time
To those this applies: now
>>ty.hardaway
>>301/347.5636
Thanks for the great lunch, the multiple CDs, but most of all for just being you. Having a Claremont guy around to keep the east coast in prespective was extremely helpful and comforting.
Give me a buzz if you get out to LA for a visit, work or otherwise.
Peace. "You check out anytime you like, but you can never leave..."
Mike B.
Ty Hardaway
08/16/2002 12:45 PM
To: All HCR Bethesda
cc:
Subject: Thai Time
To those this applies: now
>>ty.hardaway
>>301/347.5636
8.15.2002
The Village Voice: Hot Spot: Dirty Pornos: Doing the Robot! by Johnny Maldoro
at some point, can't you just call it? i think there's a mercy rule or something.
this week has been a total bust. nothing gained. no output.
anne: sick sunday and monday.
bren: 4 month check up on tuesday plus shots.
me: sick on wednesday and thursday.
oreo: old, cranky but, loving
have to reschedule car, doctor, dentist and housekeeping appts. also, several work meetings postponed or cancelled.
it's as if the week never existed. maybe it's the heat or the humility.
and let me tell you, i haven't been sick in a very long time; not like that. perhaps since i was a teen. it was like getting hit by a VW microbus. the bug should be called the '24 hours of hell' flu.
i can't think. i can't act. i cannot do.
i have no revelations. it's like being dead for a week except there's no rest.
at some point, can't you just call it? i think there's a mercy rule or something.
this week has been a total bust. nothing gained. no output.
anne: sick sunday and monday.
bren: 4 month check up on tuesday plus shots.
me: sick on wednesday and thursday.
oreo: old, cranky but, loving
have to reschedule car, doctor, dentist and housekeeping appts. also, several work meetings postponed or cancelled.
it's as if the week never existed. maybe it's the heat or the humility.
and let me tell you, i haven't been sick in a very long time; not like that. perhaps since i was a teen. it was like getting hit by a VW microbus. the bug should be called the '24 hours of hell' flu.
i can't think. i can't act. i cannot do.
i have no revelations. it's like being dead for a week except there's no rest.
8.08.2002
Arts & Letters Daily - ideas, criticism, debate
So ephemeris is simple
and coverture is hard
But contrary to the old
is-the-root-is-all-evil moral
money is everything
Unions taken as measures
of vanity appeasement
are destined to confuse
the naive and the simple
amongst the hordes
Some work some sacrifice to
thus earn their leisurely entertainment
both free and not -
values internalized from lessons learned
minds wide open from birth
Without spirituality
confidence and imagination lapse
And no bid buys peace
We bear our responsibilities
to ourselves to each other
Unfortunately our heavens
only exist in the fairy tales of
whiny baby minds
Friendship among earthlings
and the Earth is unconditional
So ephemeris is simple
and coverture is hard
But contrary to the old
is-the-root-is-all-evil moral
money is everything
Unions taken as measures
of vanity appeasement
are destined to confuse
the naive and the simple
amongst the hordes
Some work some sacrifice to
thus earn their leisurely entertainment
both free and not -
values internalized from lessons learned
minds wide open from birth
Without spirituality
confidence and imagination lapse
And no bid buys peace
We bear our responsibilities
to ourselves to each other
Unfortunately our heavens
only exist in the fairy tales of
whiny baby minds
Friendship among earthlings
and the Earth is unconditional
8.05.2002
WFMU-FM 91.1/Jersey City, NJ; 90.1/Hudson Valley, NY
i just received the prints from my New Orleans shoot
i am finding them so deeply moving and intimate
some two, three and four image sequences
are perfect in juxtaposition and in context and in composition
but, i am hopelessly depressed - heartbroken even
the shots are boldly blurry, distorted and obtuse
wholly as intended - as close to perfection as i've ever realized
but who will understand?
the first viewer declared
"you take shots of anything, huh?"
i could die
i could cry
i could quit
can i take a juried rejection
or critical misinterpretation
or the simplistic conclusions of untrained?
if they live in only my world
do they live?
i just received the prints from my New Orleans shoot
i am finding them so deeply moving and intimate
some two, three and four image sequences
are perfect in juxtaposition and in context and in composition
but, i am hopelessly depressed - heartbroken even
the shots are boldly blurry, distorted and obtuse
wholly as intended - as close to perfection as i've ever realized
but who will understand?
the first viewer declared
"you take shots of anything, huh?"
i could die
i could cry
i could quit
can i take a juried rejection
or critical misinterpretation
or the simplistic conclusions of untrained?
if they live in only my world
do they live?
MIDDLESPACE - somewhere not here
"Sometimes there's mystique, and sometimes there's nothing but the pitiful tackiness of violent death. And none of this, of course, means a damn thing to the people who die."
- Patrick Smith, Pilot
3:00 a.m. - Doylestown, PA. I have to pee something fierce. We're in the basement at Jim's because Mike's room was too warm, too bright and too noisy for the baby to sleep. In fact, she was up ever hour or so the night before. The basement solves all of the sleep issues and she's sleeping beautifully tonight. And, she's been sound asleep since around 9:30. So I fumble over Anne, rocking her all over the place on the air mattress, but being dutifully careful not to disturb the bassinet. God, I have to pee and the bathroom is all the way upstairs.
Using a borrowed mini-flashlight, I find my way up the stairs and into the guest bathroom. It's at least 20 degrees warmer up here and am I happy we chose to sleep in the basement. It is such an opulent facility. Soon, I have an impressive stream going, and the sound of the water is soothing. But, I'm still a bit sleepy so I lean my arm against the wall for support... for...just...a...mom...ent...
I awake to the most horrifying crash I've ever experienced in my life. The shattering sound is nothing compared with the blinding white flash of light. Have I been shot? Bludgeoned? I must be dead, because no one survives such traumatic crashes. Why am I looking at the ceiling? Why is everything blurry? Why am I on the floor?
Fortunately, my equipment is put away (even though my fly is still open). I am sore in many places and everything is still very blurry. My glasses are somewhere. I check my skull and feel for broken bones. I look in the mirror. I flush.
Somehow, I have fallen. Or passed out? Or just fallen back asleep? What on earth was that about? But, I didn't have to pee anymore.
"Sometimes there's mystique, and sometimes there's nothing but the pitiful tackiness of violent death. And none of this, of course, means a damn thing to the people who die."
- Patrick Smith, Pilot
3:00 a.m. - Doylestown, PA. I have to pee something fierce. We're in the basement at Jim's because Mike's room was too warm, too bright and too noisy for the baby to sleep. In fact, she was up ever hour or so the night before. The basement solves all of the sleep issues and she's sleeping beautifully tonight. And, she's been sound asleep since around 9:30. So I fumble over Anne, rocking her all over the place on the air mattress, but being dutifully careful not to disturb the bassinet. God, I have to pee and the bathroom is all the way upstairs.
Using a borrowed mini-flashlight, I find my way up the stairs and into the guest bathroom. It's at least 20 degrees warmer up here and am I happy we chose to sleep in the basement. It is such an opulent facility. Soon, I have an impressive stream going, and the sound of the water is soothing. But, I'm still a bit sleepy so I lean my arm against the wall for support... for...just...a...mom...ent...
I awake to the most horrifying crash I've ever experienced in my life. The shattering sound is nothing compared with the blinding white flash of light. Have I been shot? Bludgeoned? I must be dead, because no one survives such traumatic crashes. Why am I looking at the ceiling? Why is everything blurry? Why am I on the floor?
Fortunately, my equipment is put away (even though my fly is still open). I am sore in many places and everything is still very blurry. My glasses are somewhere. I check my skull and feel for broken bones. I look in the mirror. I flush.
Somehow, I have fallen. Or passed out? Or just fallen back asleep? What on earth was that about? But, I didn't have to pee anymore.
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