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archives push me to post webmail :: xenii mail the hive :: for trading and raiding polymorph :: a cosmographia universalis chrisnelson.ca :: chiefwagonburner has a blog fortune cookie distro :: x's distro
thank you, jimmy! we've been told to keep moving while pumping gas. (seriously!) enjoy your piano. that's a wonderful gift you're being given! maybe you'll upload some of that Satie for us? v.
Vicki Vicki, please don't stress out too much and be careful, dear. I can't even imagine. Today was a strange day. I...well, let me start with yesterday. I work next door to a school called the "Rathfon School of Music and Art". From outside it has a very prestigious look...and quite private. I finally got up the nerve to go over and ask for lessons. I signed up for my first classical piano lesson which starts on the 23rd of this month. "Do you have a piano?", she asked. She was tall and lean and very beautiful. I believe she was in her early to mid forties, and she walked with her back straight and her head high. If you can imagine an alien librarian...well, that's what she looked like. Kind of like the woman on Camino in Episode II, if that means anything to you at all. "Uh...no I don't have a piano, but I have a couple of keyboards." "You're really going to need a piano", she said, shaking her delicate head. My eyes tracked her eyes as I thought of an excuse. They bounced as eyes do, from right-side to left-side in correspondence to the parts of the brain currently doing the calculating. If someone's eyes track right, they are probably going to say something funny, creative, spatial, or perhaps even just flat out lie. "I think I can use the ones at school. I'll think of something." That was yesterday. Today, out of the blue, a friend of mine called me. I hadn't heard from her in quite awhile. We've probably seen one another less than as many fingers as I have since the turn of the century when we broke up. "Jimmmmmy", she purred. I was at work, and at work I am always a robot, trying desperately not to make off-color jokes and what-not. "Hi", I said, happy enough to hear her voice but unable to express the sentiment while in cubby-fauna mode. Within 20 seconds there were tears in my eyes. She had called to give me her piano. -just to give it to me. She told me she was getting rid of it, and she thought I deserved it because I "play so beautifully". I really don't play beautifully. I'm glad she thinks so. So I have a piano. This call came about 2 hours after I heard from Microtron2000. "Your computer is ready, sir." I couldn't believe it. I picked it up straight away after work, already starry eyed because of how fortunate I can be sometimes. How my wonderful friend had come to want to give me her piano like that, less than 24 hours after I had said the words "I'll think of something." I didn't have to tyhink of anything. Somewhere around this moment, which was the day before she called me, she decided who she would give the piano to after deliberating for some time. That person was me. I'm glad she thought I was deserving. My first attempts to play piano and sight read outside of my lessons will be the Gymnopedes, by Erik Satie. I am typing to you on Accidental Historian, my new computer. I almost named it Gauss, and almost Saraswati, and almost Godel. I am just about to set up the network between Accidental Historian and Yawning God, since all of my music and stuff is on the latter. I haven't tested multi-tracking yet. I am still winding down. I volunteered to watch my ex-roommate's son tomorrow. It means he and I will ride razor scooters all over Hillcrest, and play Halo on the X-box for hours. I think though, he can wait patiently while I play with the historian. I flipped out a bit when I saw my new hard drive. You know the little pie-chart that shows how much space is available on your hard drive? Mine was full already. "How the hell is my hard drive already full??", I spat. Then I realized that what I was looking at was not what was being used, but what was not being used. My hard-drive is virtually empty. A fresh slate. I know what programs not to install (because they shit in the registry). I just installed a cpu monitor. I bought an Athlon 1.3 gig chip, and AMD chips are known for overheating, which is why I chose to wait a week and have microtron build the computer for me instead of doing it myself. I would surely screw up the fan. The cpu monitor makes use of sensors on both the motherboard and cpu which monitor the temperature of the chip and the voltage currently being handled. It's a damned good idea. The fellow at microtron suggested it. This thing is so fucking fast, I almost shit when I first opened the browser. Also...my DSL connection seems that much faster. Processor speed does affect your internet connection. I wonder why the Earthlink people are trained to tell me otherwise? Anyhow. I haven't been this happy in a long time. I got three perfect scores in a row on my math quizzes. I never get perfects, I am perfectly imperfect in everything I do, but something snapped in me lately, and I realized that doing well in school is not about learning the material (which is what I have mistakenly done all this time), it is about learning the instructor, anticipating the test material, breaking the system. As soon as I snapped, BOOM! Perfect scores. My chess has changed too. It took 22 games for my chess group to dislodge me from the winners table. I repeatedly gave them whatever concessions they wanted. "I want to play white." "Sure." "Let's put 15 minutes on the clock, instead of 5." "Sure, ok." (Winners are never this generous. They want what's best for them so they can keep the table.) Whatever it is, this string of good luck, I am enjoying it...but one thing remains: Patrick: Look at you Jimmy, you're pathetic. (slams his knight down on e5, a nice post) Jimmy: Say what you like from behind your pervert's beard. You live in your fucking van. (NxN...PxN...QxP+) Patrick: Haha, I know, we're both pathetic. Jimmy: I'm only pathetic because I spend my time here yapping with you. This is why I don't have a fucking girlfriend. At this point, the new barista walks by. She butts in as she clears the table next to us. barista: That's not why you don't have a girl-friend. I'm embarrassed because I used the f-word in a conversation about why I'm single, and was overheard. Still though, I've never spoken with this woman. Who is she to know so much? Patrick: It's his face! Haha, that's why! Jimmy: Shut your cake-hole, you fucking vulgarian. (At least now the barista is out of earshot.) An hour later, Patrick asks her again why I don't have one. She ignores him, and tells me: "You don't want one. You want something else." This wouldn't have been so creepy if she hadn't sort of snorted when she said it, and then walked out with her lesbian lover. "Wha-huh?" But, even if she was in fact implying that I was a closet homosexual, her words were correct. "You don't want one." -jimmy
jimmy I'm unsuccessfully trying to get comfortable. arrrggghhhh... My back has been hurting me all week and I can't quite seem to sort it out. I don't know what I did to it other than continually sleeping on a crappy old beat up futon, riding my bike with the seat too low, and then carrying that heavy old clunker of a bike very awkwardly up three floors and into my apartment at least once a day, oh and hunching over on my floor sewing. Oh yes, and quite regularly falling asleep on my soft weird couch while reading. Oh well. I'm trying to sit up straighter now. I think that perhaps it's just stress. It feels like a knot in the upper part of my back, right underneath my right shoulder blade. Anyhoo. Some guy is walking up my street at the moment playing the trumpet very badly. It's still kinda nice just to hear music from outside, even though it's actually pretty awful. Maybe he just found it. Lately there's been a lot of spontaneous music in the hood. I haven't seen the violin lady for ages and she wasn't lookin' too good the last couple of times I did see her, but she's been replaced. Somebody who plays clarinet moved into the apartment building next door to mine. I haven't seen them, but they sit out on the fire escape late at night and play. It's really beautiful and they always play kind of late at night when most of the other street sounds (besides the sporadic screaming) have quieted down a bit. I hear it a lot when I'm up late sewing and it makes me really happy to have some company. It's nice to think of them out there on the fire escape enjoying the night and the music that they're making, while I sit in my window sewing and watching the cars and people straggle by. It feels intimate in a weird way, even though we've never seen each other. They probably don't even know I'm listening, but I always feel like they do. Maybe they see light coming from my kitchen window that looks out onto their fire escape and they know they're playing for an audience. I like to think that. Anyhoo. I'm going to put some book reviews up on my speck page soon. I've been reading many good things lately and y'all should check some of them out if you feel so inclined. I must be going. Josh is coming over soon and we're going to see some bands play down the block. should be fun if I can find a comfortable position to stand in.... sheesh, makes me feel like I'm gettin' old. god forbid.
Miss Speck and the Giant Librarians hi, everyone. i haven't felt like posting lately (still don't, quite) because i'm stuck here in the middle of DC sniper country, and it's wearing on the nerves. everyone i talk to is somewhere on the spectrum from jittery to afraid. i've gone around feeling like i have a bullseye on my back for too many days. if they don't nab the guy, then i'll get used to the feeling. in either case, i hope to feel more communicative soon. (this really is a better medium than yahoo, isn't it? i'm admiring the ease of use as i sit and type this.) regards to all!
Vicki I haven't had much time to relax in the chair(slackforum) and compose my thoughts this week. Hope you're all well. We're going to my mother's for the weekend, yup, the great northern wilderness. (Truly the wilderness, my mom & I are going shopping in Bar Harbor tomorrow morning. I haven' t been there for five years. Yikes!) I've been thinking a lot about the reasons for my massive creativity block, and when I am through thinking about them, I'll post again. Also been thinking a lot about reductionism/truth/beauty. Anyway, stay tuned. I did pick out my Halloween costume, and I've been sewing the headdress. So far, it kicks ass. Yippee! I'm trying to get a bunch of my geek friends to go to a midnight showing of Star Wars Episode 2 at the IMAX theater in town, Halloween night. We shall see who is brave enough to dress up with me & parade around the mall looking like a bunch of refugees from Mars Attacks. Better run, I've been trying to leave work early so we can hit rush hour at a less evil time. x-w, I'll wave at your town on the way by. bye all
coop Re: Incomplete Beauty Knocking reductionism, not only in science but all branches of seeking, seems to be fashionable from time to time. However in 3.4 seconds of thought I have been unable to come up with any other way of learning early on. When one has a fairly good understanding of a subject then it may be possible to get insights into the whole. A person may be said to have an intuitive understanding of that subject then. Of course a person (especially children) may have an intuitive (but uncomplete) understanding of something without the study and understanding of the sub-systems. A child finding a windmill beautiful is wonderful. But remember that someone who understands the bits and pieces created and maintains this beauty. Reductionism is limiting only when we forget that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. If a person seeks to understand why he finds another person beautiful, to understand what is it that causes him to have these feelings of beauty without sacrificing the wonder and awe then this is hardly a marrow-less life. Rather it is enhancement. For some it may be elegance that gives rise to this feeling. Long sensual uncomplicated lines, curves, movements and gestures. Design that meshes together without chinks, all components contributing to the whole. Just to clarify my understanding of Godel’s Incompleteness Theorem – I thought this said that it is impossible to know everything about a system from within the system. There has to be at least one piece of knowledge (however a piece of knowledge is defined) from outside the system. Does Godel’s theorem say it is impossible to prove this piece of knowledge (having got it somehow from outside) within the system? Religions have understood Godel’s theorem intuitively. One piece of information (may not be the only one) that we can not have from within this system called life is what happens after death. All religions tell us their versions of this. And it is called revealed knowledge – i.e. this knowledge came from outside the system.
Ashok They're supposed to have my new computer ready for me tomorrow. When it's finally set up and plugged in at my humble home, I'm going to have another web-development/music/fake-ad explosion, and I don't want anyone to get hurt. Please wear your safety goggles and helmets on Friday. It could get messy around here. From a 150 Mhz processor to an 1.3 Ghz? Whiplash, my friends, whiplash. I'm sure even 1.3 gigs is slow to some of you guys. I know there are at least 1.6 gigs available on the market now, but after having read the specs and compared perfomances, I noticed that performance increases logarithmically as a function of processor speed and not linearly, so it isn't likely I'd notice a difference between the two anyhow. Oh man. You should see this soundcard I have sitting at home. 8 ports for microphones and guitars. Yowsa. The only thing is that it's huge and it may not fit onto the motherboard or even in the housing. I've viewed 1984 about five times over the past week. When I leave the house, I listen to Pink Floyd's "The Wall" in the car. I'm not sure if this is healthy.
jimmy For about 10 minutes I thought the person running Newspeak Dictionary Ooooo I'm mad. Rarrrrrrrrrrr. "I must not flame. Flame is the time killer." -from Dune to buffoon
jimmy How odd. I was thinking of Orwell's room 101 this morning, as I got ready for work. Actually, as I shivered in a fetal ball in front of the alarm clock. Which is sort of like getting ready. Room 101 is always the room next door.... Damn Jimmy, a 486? Put that poor beast out to pasture.
jeffron x 1984...Big Brother...Ingsoc; the future as english socialism... I read the book after I saw the movie, borrowing from its incredibly grotesque, dismal and perfectly beautiful imagery rendered on what appears to be tungsten based film. I rented it tonight. 1984 is a very sensual movie, making cigarettes look heavenly, and every bite of sickly green soup Damn I love this film. Curiously though, as with most all films involving torture scenes during which a character falls unconcious again and again as time distorts itself to wrap around the punctuated bouts of extreme pain and wakefulness, I cannot stay awake. 1984. Brazil. Closet Land. Apparently not just torture scenes. There is a bout of punctuated conciousness in the film A.I., Kubrickian enough the first-time round for me to stay awake and interested, but the second time I watched the film I fell asleep during this period as expected and woke up to my brother and my coworker punching me because I was snoring during the quietest, most intense part of the film. What does this mean? Is this some dangerous psychological disorder? A gateway disfunction? I can see my personal ad in 10 years. Hi! I'm 28 years old, 6" tall, african-american, with brown eyes and a slim build. I am a gemini, enjoy watching others take romantic walks on the beach from the comfort of my car, become slightly uncomfortable at the sight of people drinking milk, and fall asleep during torture scenes. I am seeking a partner for serious relationship/casual dating. Must have a slick, mat black head of hair pulled back tightly like a terrifying black helmet, and must enjoy eating only white foods, such as rice or bleached wheat. 1984 was filmed in April of 1984. The book, I believe, starts on April 4th, 1984. The Eurythmics and Dominic Muldowney did an excellent job with the soundtrack, and John Hurt's beautiful voice smothers a 'nachdenkliche' mood over the scenery; pensive, dark, perfekt. listen. This to me is how music should sound. I have two sampling keyboards waiting for me in my closet. When my computer can handle it, I plan to take over the world. After I post this, I am going to suffer a bit. I want to purchase a computer, and it will mean starving a bit for two weeks. I think I am going to do it. My computer is a 486. This means the computer I want to buy is about 10 times faster than what I am used to. My computer is not fast enough to multitrack, and I want to self-publish an album by May of 2003, and want to begin working as soon as possible. I had multi-tracking capability for a brief instant, and while I tested this, I hummed and strummed a song. It was the first and last time my computer would ever perform this task properly, and having no idea that it was, I very innocently tested the microphone and made up a song as I went along. I don't know how it managed, but since then it has been completely incapable. If only I had known, I would have kept the program window open for days. *sigh* Now I've got to go decide whether I should be responsible and wait for payday. "While we're on the subject...here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head!" -a voice from the telescreen
jimmy The webzine Fourth River is accepting submissions. I'm no longer involved with it, but word has it they're getting pretty desperate for submissions. If you're reading this, it means your stuff is good enough, so check out the stuff they have up now. If you've got something you think would fit, submit it. What do you have to lose, besides fame and fortune?
jeffron x 
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