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It's fall / autumn now; summer doesn't
last forever. I'm very much more of a person
that prefers warm weather, especially warm nights.
I have a low body fat percentage (I think at least)
which I think greatly biases me in that direction.
I find myself habitually asking more stout or portly individuals
what their favorite season is, and they invariably tell me
"winter". This habit of mine is cruel, or at least
I'm conditioned to believe it is, as I was raised
to consider calling attention to any medical problem
of others as extremely rude. Still, I have an id that
compels me to treat others poorly, and my more
conscious mind is consistently trying to keep this
impulse in check.
My neighbor told me he likes winter most of all
because he likes to wear jackets. He told me
he likes to wear jackets because of all the
I worry that I'm becoming somewhat un(anti seems
a harsh prefix)social as I age. I'm not sure
if it's due to circumstances I can control
or not. Part of me feels like it's a means
of self-defense, self-preservation, a cautionary
measure. Sometimes I think it's due to income
inequality and it leading me to be more socially
isolated because I cannot afford more gregarious
behavior. Despite all this I remain optimistic
albeit frequently depressed. Perhaps pessimists
have more social success. Do they inspire less
jealousy and hence enhance a feeling of comeradery?
Or is it that I tend to behave as if I'm the
smartest guy in the room and this alienates
others and causes them to label me as a pretentious
elitist. Perhaps I'm internalizing the verbal abuse
of others. "Fuck what they say." should be my attitude.
It's autumn now and I am becoming emotionally entropic.
When spring emerges I will become who I feel is my true
self again. I don't mind the cold nights in the spring
as they are attached to the wonderful feeling of winter
being beaten back. The budding plants give me such an
uplifting feeling, but perhaps this is an unconscious
japanophile operating within.
I still like spring very much.
I wonder if I prefer warm weather because I've spent most
of my life in a warm climate, near the horse lattitudes.
The winter is so cruel and dry, so sterilizing. The
normally friendly sun becomes harsh and uncaring,
unlike the summer sun which is more dangerous
but the harm it causes is like an overly touchy
friend giving me rug burns because it insists on
wrestling on the carpet.
I think seasonal affectation is a universal part
of the human experience. I recently learned that
the art in the Lascaux Caves was consistently
painted with the horses first, then aurochs (wild cows),
then deer. Horses mate in the early spring, aurochs mate
in the summer, deer in the fall. Bears also mate in the
summer, and there is a bear hiding in the underbelly
of an aurochs. There are also groups of dots in quantities
strongly suggesting calendrical measurements, frequently
six or eight in a group, as would be the full moons
in a half year or the space between the end and beginning
of winter. Elsewhere in the caves, a group of thirteen dots
preceding a geometrical deviation suggests a half-month,
the space between the new and full moon.
Lascaux is likely a record of bio-calendrics
and Stonehenge is likely a tomb, with its calendric
qualities overemphasized by modern observers.
Many very old burials show an orientation of entombation
that suggest it was considered necessary for the transmigration
of the soul. Egyptians referred to the afterlife as "The Western
Lands" and there may have been traces of this in Greek thought
labelling "Tartarus" as something like "West of the Western limit",
in an ancestral dialect. Japanese burials also have directional
orientation, North-facing, if my memory isn't failing me.
The emperor's throne faced South, possibly as a gesture of solar
worship. The emperor's advisor concerning matters with Korea
was "The minister of the left" and for Chinese matters, "The minister
of the right", referring to this arrangement.
As cold as seasons can be on our planet, I sympathize with the lonely
Pioneer probes, so cold and distant. Filled with plutonium
and emblazoned with plaques arrogantly declaring our achievement
in a pidgin (likely arrogantly) engineered to be ideal.
I mourn the loss of the space race, what it meant symbolically
to our species. That we can overcome economic errors to focus
on the more wide-scope problem of living in a space that
oppresses the intellect that humans are capable of.
How desperately I fantasize of writing this in a capsule
travelling through space, transmitting periodically
to a data center in orbit around the Moon or something,
gazing occaisonally at the distant bright blue speck where
I was born. I would feel less bound to seasons than even
the most mobile of trans-hemispherical travellers.
Instead I am destitute and left on the side of a
valley next to a mountain, the valley being slowly
eroded over millions of years by a river now somewhat distant.
(26 September, 2015)
At the end of my dreams this morning
I dreamed of clickbait. I was browsing the
internet and came across an article
with a photo of a forklift holding many
flats of soda. The headline read "Watch
what happens when you add ANY pharmaceutical
(except castor oil) to ordinary soda!"
for some reason it made all the carbon dioxide
leave the drink and stay at the top of the container.
Opening the container would produce a violent "pop"
which for some reason there was video of it pushing over
a forklift. The video referred to the effect as a "Belgian Horn"
and was titled something like "Forklift knocked over by
its OWN BELGIAN HORN"
A comment below the article said something like "Something
similar happens to the lining of your stomach!"
I'm not really into lucid dreaming. I generally don't
feel the need to control my dreams, and I fear the
attempt to might ruin the vividness and sponteniety
of my dreams. There is an understated bliss in passive
observation and unquestioning co-operation. Perhaps
this manifests in my waking experience as a fear of
(26 September, 2015)
I dreamed I was eating
outside in the corner of a
bistro. A massive spider the
size of a small tree climbed
into the dining area, onto a
mesh table. I jammed a steak
knife into its face, noticing
that it had only two eyes
amber and lifeless. The carapace
of its face was very difficult
to split and I only managed to drive
the knife into the single puncture
in a shallow manner.
Upon waking, I could not stop
thinking about how I would like
to taste the meat of that vanquished
I took a nap earlier
I fell asleep reading twitter
I had strange dreams of counter-strike
nostalgia. I was playing the map
called dust. For some reason the
game became basketball on tv
but it was still counter-strike
Stevie Wonder's "Superstition"
started playing loudly near the end,
particularly the horns.
(5 September, 2015)
A bash script I wrote for controlling a roku on my network.
It should work for yours, too, if you change the ip.text version.
On box-drawing (▱✍) characters(19 August, 2015)
I got back from travelling two days ago.
I had a really good time, but I'm still a little
tired. At least I'm not visibly ill.
It's nice to be somewhere with a fraction of the
humidity of the place I was visiting.
I think I will write more about my vacation
later, (13 August, 2015). I'm still processing it.
I'm staying with my girlfriend's family
before ultimately heading east to Austin
on Thursday. It's nice to be blogging anonymously
so I'm free to share travel details without worrying
about random friends breaking into my house, although
they probably wouldn't.
It's strange how reality seems to bend around wherever
I am, and it seems impossible to determine if it's due
to a different social atmosphere, lower latitude, or
simply fatigue. For example, I was just annoyed with
input lag so I tried using mosh, but I soon found
I forgot how entirely. I remember not having much
difficulty setting it up on my desktop, but my laptop
is more cumbersome for a small list of reasons.
It was nice to have copious food presented to me upon
my arrival, although I just felt like sleeping.
I slept for maybe three and a half hours before
waking and determining the wi-fi password. (2 August, 2015)
I really need to ask the sysadmin to install JOE.
I love emacs, but I forgot how to do most things with
it, and it's really hard to remember after a few months of
inactivity. I can't even remember how to get mosh to work
right. Perhaps this is what senility feels like.
The indoor lighting is so inferior to my apartment's.
This probably has more to do with my dislike of small
towns than I realize; everything looks dingy including
I suppose I'll get used to everything in a day or so
although I'm at the mercy of the half food desert and
the whims of my girlfriend's family, bombarded with
simple carbohydrates and inferior fruit.
I think I'm going to go to bed now, and dream of
interesting things to populate this page with.
Perhaps I'll have mail the next time I log in.
If you happen to be reading this, don't hesitate
to send a message about whatever pleases you.
I might not get back to you right away, but I
appreciate the interaction dearly.
The radiation outside is super intense
but I'm inside, beating the heat and multiplexing
my terminal with tmux, not GNU screen, so I can
finally irc while I emacs. I would ideally be using
JOE (as jstar) but I have yet worked up the courage
to ask the sysop, although he seems kind and outgoing.
I think tmux and emacs butt heads a little, but I can
probably iron it out. A lifetime can be spent setting
up an environment.
I was lying awake last night thinking that I should
publish upload sequential text
files of a manuscript, either some kind of fiction
or a memoir, although my age is young and my accomplishments
minor and fleeting. (July 25, 2015)
Upon further reflection, my urge to write a memoir
is probably related to habitual facebook usage
and a desire to be the voice that authoritatively
describes my life, rather than having it outsourced
in front of my friends and acquaintances in a system
that rewards constant updates on image and location.
I need to acquire more food and healthcare
I find myself once again near the end of July
approaching what was termed in the YA novel Tuck, Everlasting
as the top of the ferris wheel of Summer
although, strictly speaking, the book was referring
to August. An unplaceable exhaustion prevades,
nearly ready for another Autumn and Winter.
I was so excited to get in on the tildeverse
and now that I'm a little overwhelmed by the
possibilities. (July 24, 2015)
make a todo list as a .plan or .org (emacs)
set up some nice css polish
start more projects
finish more projects
cgi script a pageview counter
make a new income stream
set up GNU screen so I can emacs while I IRC
eat more lunch
I think I can accomplish at least one of
I just got my tilde.town account today (July 22, 2015)
soon I will populate it with scrolling text or cgi or whatever
I'm really excited and I can't wait to feel like part of this bold
new retrofuture internet.