2020-10-31 (Saturday)
Current Mood: controlling you
Current Music: theremins
2020-10-30 (Friday)
For your consideration...
And stop using Internet Explorer! Really, it's dangerous for your machine and your private data. Use Firefox instead. It's a breeze to install and easier to use.
Μέκκα λέκκα ἅϊ; Μέκκα ἅϊνι ὧ !
2013-05-20 (Monday)
Dear Log,About my notes on phone interaction... You know, one tries to be "nice to the help", as one says about one's cook, about one's people who come by and straighten up one's house in town, one's house in the country, etc.
In dealing with scams, I keep it together. We both know it's a scam, so I tell them to please just go away and don't call back.
When I become unpleasant is when I am on the phone with my bank-- and when I say I'm talking to "my bank", I mean some company in India who my actual bank hired to handle the calls that come in. I think they're almost all about "I've lost my card, still looking, but can you freeze the account?", then "okay, I found it under the bed, can you reactivate it please?", or "okay, I really can't find it, can you shut down the account and mail me a new card for a new account?"
However, my bank has recently done some pretty shady things to me personally. By "my bank has done", I mean a bank's heuristics have altered the parameters of an account of mine (APR, credit limit, etc) on a card that I happen to not use much anyway, and then the automated process generates a form letter telling me this, which of course is mailed from the farthest point they can possibly mail it from. There is no "the person at the bank" involved. It's bots all the way down.
So when I am on the phone talking to the people working for my Large American Bank, I have coherent goals for the conversation, my agenda of things to tick off, including some things to ask the person to change (and finding out that they can't do much of anything in their job beyond the simple "Card: Freeze / Restore / Cancel-Replace" options).
I see no point in yelling or being insulting. It'd just rile me up. But in this kind of case, I see no particular reason to "be nice to the help". Granted, I do not waste time in bringing up how this bit of shadiness toward me is merely a mote in the larger pattern of to how this bank is under investigation for pretty blatant predatory lending and just plain fraud in a dozen different cities and states; and in at least one case (last I heard) an entire large city combined all grievances as a class action lawsuit.
But if I am brusque ("so, is there anything you can do here except read me the gibberish form letter that I incidentally have in my hand?"), it's because THEY ARE ANSWERING THE PHONES FOR THE MAFIA.
The fact that the mafia in question has a corporate logo, and letterhead, and whose offices occupy entire tall buildings, and who issues credit cards and prints up checks, and has an HR department that cuts you paychecks instead of slipping you envelopes of cash— that doesn't stop them from BEING THE MAFIA. You know know that you should be answering every call with "HELLO, MAFIA SPEAKING! HOW CAN WE GRIFT, MENACE, AND DEFRAUD YOU TODAY?" You know it. You can't un-know it. Yes, they seem official because they have lawyers on staff. OF COURSE THEY DO, THE MAFIA ALWAYS HAS LAWYERS!
IF YOU WORK FOR THE MAFIA, YOU HAVE TO QUIT. "Easier said than done! I got kids to feed!" I know. I know. But feed them from a safe job. If you work for THE MAFIA, they're stealing from me— and they're stealing from you too, out of habit if nothing else. Do this: personally log your clock-in and clock-out time, multiply by your wage, and you will see a problem. You have to stop working for a company that is almost definitely stealing from you! ...and which is, I point out, THE MAFIA.
Stay cool about it, and just say "No hard feelings, but I have an ailing sick aunt— in a distant city where everyone has the same last name as me and I can't give a forwarding address— you know, what with the economy and all." BUT YOU HAVE TO QUIT.
LEAVE THE GUN, BRING THE CANNOLI!
Current Music: Nancy Sinatra- These Boots Are Made for Walking
2013-04-28 (Sunday)
Dear Log,«Like other snack food companies, “we’re obviously sensitive to the demand for health-conscious options,” said Daren Metropoulos [who is with the company that's bringing back Twinkies in the US]. Look for the introduction of smaller portions of the classic snacks in 100-calorie packs, the better to attract moms. As for the increasingly aggressive nutrition police (see under: Bloomberg, Michael), they do have something of a point. “Everybody knows that a Mediterranean-type of diet and lifestyle is great,” said Evan Metropoulos. “But I don’t think a Twinkie once in a while is going to kill anybody.”»—"Twinkies Are Coming Back: The Metropoulos Brothers on the Brand", The Daily BeastTags: foodCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: metropolitan
Current Music: The Cult- Fire Woman
2013-04-21 (Sunday)
Dear Log,As I was browsing Wikipedia BUT IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE OF GERMANITY, I noticed that German seems to have a native and monomorphemic word for radio: Funk(e).
This aufbepuzzled me.
(Example use: Rundfunkempfangsgerät, an expansive term used as a headword for sake of clarity: broadcast-radio-receiving-device. Cf. English headword: "radio (receiver)").
I looked into it. It's a word for "spark". (Given that radio started out using spark-gaps to make the signals, that makes good sense.)
Apparently "funk(e)" can be traced back to a form back in Western Germanic, which gave "Funk(e)" in German— and "funk" in Old English, meaning a spark, or a small fire.
It acquired the meaning of smoldering, such as you get from a small fire. It then lost its initial sense, and all you've got is two attributes of smoldering: and strong smell, and also smokey cloud (which I think survives only via metaphor in the idiom "in a funk").
How this meaning at point a ends up at the point b, "funk music", is left to the semantic workings of the hyperspace jumpgates of African American English.
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: zappy
Current Music: "Tobias" - Arrested Development soundtrack
2013-02-06 (Wednesday)
Dear Log,
«I can do something, there's injustice involving a cake!»—"Duff Goldman, 'Ace Of Cakes' Chef, Offers To Bake Rejected Lesbian Couple's Wedding Cake For Free"Tags: food, televisionCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: Want donuts.
Current Music: Cake- "[Some People Like To Make Life a Little] Tougher Than It Is"
2013-02-04 (Monday)
Dear Log,The thing at Livejournal where you can write posts in raw HTML has changed. You turn on the box that says "disable autoformat", and it takes your stuff to be HTML (as opposed to long-lined plaintext, understands HTML, but now it inserts ＜br＞'s wherever you have a newline. When I'm writing a paragraph of flowed HTML source, I don't want that, at all!
Apparently this all goes away if you start the message with ＜lj-raw＞ and have all your stuff, then end it with ＜/lj-raw＞
It's an easy workaround, but... still.
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: brackish
Current Music: Seal- Crazy
2013-02-02 (Saturday)
Dear Every Designer Everywhere:ENOUGH WITH THE HELVETICA, OKAY?
Current Music: LOUD ANGRY GUITAR MUSIC
2012-11-03 (Saturday)
Dear Log,Yes indeed, I'm a superstah because the file size of that post's images was 1,477 bytes for each of the first two and 12,980 bytes for each of the bottom two. That's bytes, not kilobytes or megabytes. And it's lossless compression— no jpeg jaggies around here, boyo!
I am simply wonderful.
(BTW, those could have been in color and would have been about as small. And in fact, they started out in color-- but as I tinkered with the content, black-and-white actually worked out better in making my point than a blue↔purple↔red gradient did. I don't know if the colorspace trouble was in the display, or perceptual.)
Tags: graphicsCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: pixed
Current Music: Cake- "Frank Sinatra"
Dear Log,Oh, and by the way, the thing about journalists reporting a survey result while ignoring its margin of error, is reason #16 that I want to destroy the world.
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: stabby
Current Music: Cake- "Frank Sinatra"
Dear Log,So, there's chatter on the news about whoever's numbers, in whatever place, dropping from 49% to 48%, ohnoes!...
It drives me batty, because look in the corner of the screen and it'll say "±4%". Not 0.4%, oh my no. That tiny little footnote says 4%, and you know how the large print giveth and the small print giveth away!
Now, this is what a no-margin-of-error 49% looks like, zooming in on the range 40%-60% (which I'll let stand, even though I generally squint unhappily at a graph whose Y axis starts at anything other than 0)...
(60%) (40%) Now, this is what a no-margin-of-error 48% looks like:
(60%) (40%) Yes, it is White gaining a whole extra point on Black, and that's how they draw it.
But when they say a one point drop with a little "±4%" in the corner of the screen, that means that they're really saying that things went from this:
(60%) (40%) to this:
(60%) (40%) Suddenly it's kinda harder to make gripping news chatter about that. Because the data visualization just got kinda... confusing. Namely, got real. And if you say the numbers instead of confusingly showing them, well, you might as well be just reading lists of lotto numbers.
(Meta-details: I did an even gradient effect between 49-4 and 49+4 instead of a chromatic bell curve, and I pretended that there was precision on those numbers: 49.00 ± 4.00%. And I presumed that ±4% was with a p=0.00 instead of a p value of our pal 0.05%, for example. Also, your display's color correction management might tweak this all anyway.)
So, ya see, look for the "± x %" in the corner of whatever graph. It's the difference between this being news, or the opposite of news: something that leaves you less informed than before you read it.
* * *
A somewhat unrelated gripe of mine: When we tally votes or responses, we end up with integers for one response or another. Sometimes we turn them into percentages, sometimes as fractions. Regardless, people report the one tally versus the other, and mention the difference as the lead. It is my imperial, autocratic, and kommissarial opinion that we should report the swing instead.
So, a change from 49% to 48% is a 1% change in the lead. But I think— just as a matter of perspective— that it's better to consider the swing: just .5% of people changed their opinions. Yes, these are identical assertions numerically, but this is how I would prefer it.
And when I hear "a sweeping High Court decision of 3 to 6!!", I grind my teeth. Yes, that does mean twice as many people went one way as another— but it also means that if just two people's minds had changed, it would gave gone the other way. A matter of two people out of nine is important, but suddenly seems not quite so epic as three against six.
But this swing-vs-lead thing is just me happening to like one numerical representation more than another.
It's the thing about margins of error that I consider to be a Real Problem with the way the news is reported.
Tags: mediaCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: erroneous
Current Music: Grace Jones- Demolition Man
2012-10-28 (Sunday)
Dear Log,No man has known hate, like the hate I have for the continued pathetic existence of the American Electoral College.
The excuses for it ever being created in the first place are dim, after-the-fact justifications, not even worthy of the level of Southern Baptist biblical apologists.
And the arguments against the electoral college are: everyone who has ever voted.
That the choice of President isn't a matter of popular vote, but is a perpetual Ohiomancy, is beyond forgiveness.
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: exaspertronic
Current Music: (playlist in the supermarket)
2012-10-17 (Wednesday)
Dear Log,[ This is Borges, the last few paragraphs of "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius". It's written in 1940, set in 1947 (!). I start with the paragraph where he tips his hand: ]
Almost immediately, reality yielded on more than one account. The truth is that it longed to yield: Ten years ago any symmetry with a resemblance of order - dialectical materialism, anti-Semitism, Nazism - was sufficient to entrance the minds of men. How could one do other than submit to Tlön, to the minute and vast evidence of an orderly planet?
It is useless to answer that reality is also orderly. Perhaps it is, but in accordance with divine laws - I translate: inhuman laws - which we never quite grasp. Tlön is surely a labyrinth, but it is a labyrinth devised by men, a labyrinth destined to be deciphered by men.
The contact and the habit of Tlön have disintegrated this world. Enchanted by its rigor, humanity forgets over and again that it is a rigor of chess masters, not of angels.
Already the schools have been invaded by the (conjectural) "primitive language" of Tlön; already the teaching of its harmonious history (filled with moving episodes) has wiped out the one which governed in my childhood; already a fictitious past occupies in our memories the place of another, a past of which we know nothing with certainty - not even a that it is false.
Numismatology, pharmacology and archeology have been reformed. I understand that biology and mathematics also await their avatars... A scattered dynasty of solitary men has changed the face of the world. Their task continues. If our forecasts are not in error, a hundred years from now someone will discover the hundred volumes of the Second Encyclopedia of Tlön.
Then English and French and mere Spanish will disappear from the globe. The world will be Tlön.
I pay no attention to all this and go on revising, in the still days at the Adrogue hotel, an uncertain Quevedian translation (which I do not intend to publish) of Browne's Urn Burial.
Tags: writingCurrent Mood: Uqbari
Current Music: David Byrne- Nineveh
2012-08-16 (Thursday)
Dear Log,An odd fact: the grand chain of delicious Canadian pâtisseries, Tim Hortons, is spelled like that- no apostrophe. It was founded by a guy named Tim Horton. But it's not «Tim Horton’s». Apostrophe has fled them all!
Cf. «McDonald’s» in the US, from two people with that name, Richard and Maurice McDonald. One worries about «MacDonalds’».
And once, somewhere, I saw a note about a dialect group somewhere in the US (Buffalo?) where «s» was often appended to the name of every kind of big store: I'm going to «Safeway’s, Target’s, Walmart’s», etc.
Good arguments for a domain-specific erasure of apostrophes is trouble in English placenames. Is it Pike’s Peak? Pikes Peak? Etc.
Tags: englishCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: strophic
Current Music: The Gershwinses- They Can't Take That Away from Me
2012-04-10 (Tuesday)
Dear Log,I very often direct people to this brilliant essay, by the already brilliant essayist (and occasional novelist) Mark Twain: "Bible Teaching and Religious Practice". I post it here in its entirety. It's 1725 words, 10KB.
"Bible Teaching and Religious Practice"
Mark Twain, (from Europe and Elsewhere and A Pen Warmed Up In Hell)
Religion had its share in the changes of civilization and national character, of course. What share? The lion’s. In the history of the human race this has always been the case, will always be the case, to the end of time, no doubt; or at least until man by the slow processes of evolution shall develop into something really fine and high - some billions of years hence, say.
The Christian Bible is a drug store. Its contents remain the same; but the medical practice changes. For eighteen hundred years these changes were slight - scarcely noticeable. The practice was allopathic - allopathic in its rudest and crudest form. The dull and ignorant physician day and night, and all the days and all the nights, drenched his patient with vast and hideous doses of the most repulsive drugs to be found in the store’s stock; he bled him, cupped him, purged him, puked him, salivated him, never gave his system a chance to rally, nor nature a chance to help. He kept him religion sick for eighteen centuries, and allowed him not a well day during all that time. The stock in the store was made up of about equal portions of baleful and debilitating poisons, and healing and comforting medicines; but the practice of the time confined the physician to the use of the former; by consequence, he could only damage his patient, and that is what he did.
Not until far within our century was any considerable change in the practice introduced; and then mainly, or in effect only, in Great Britain and the United States. In the other countries to-day, the patient either still takes the ancient treatment or does not call the physician at all. In the English-speaking countries the changes observable in our century were forced by that very thing just referred to - the revolt of the patient against the system; they were not projected by the physician. The patient fell to doctoring himself, and the physician’s practice began to fall off. He modified his method to get back his trade. He did it gradually, reluctantly; and never yielded more at a time than the pressure compelled. At first he relinquished the daily dose of hell and damnation, and administered it every other day only; next he allowed another day to pass; then another and presently another; when he had restricted it at last to Sundays, and imagined that now there would surely be a truce, the homeopath arrived on the field and made him abandon hell and damnation altogether, and administered Christ’s love, and comfort, and charity and compassion in its stead. These had been in the drug store all the time, gold labeled and conspicuous among the long shelfloads of repulsive purges and vomits and poisons, and so the practice was to blame that they had remained unused, not the pharmacy. To the ecclesiastical physician of fifty years ago, his predecessor for eighteen centuries was a quack; to the ecclesiastical physician of to-day, his predecessor of fifty years ago was a quack. To the every-man-his-own-ecclesiastical-doctor of - when? - what will the ecclesiastical physician of to-day be? Unless evolution, which has been a truth ever since the globes, suns, and planets of the solar system were but wandering films of meteor dust, shall reach a limit and become a lie, there is but one fate in store for him.
The methods of the priest and the parson have been very curious, their history is very entertaining. In all the ages the Roman Church has owned slaves, bought and sold slaves, authorized and encouraged her children to trade in them. Long after some Christian peoples had freed their slaves the Church still held on to hers. If any could know, to absolute certainty, that all this was right, and according to God’s will and desire, surely it was she, since she was God’s specially appointed representative in the earth and sole authorized and infallible expounder of his Bible. There were the texts; there was no mistaking their meaning; she was right, she was doing in this thing what the Bible had mapped out for her to do. So unassailable was her position that in all the centuries she had no word to say against human slavery. Yet now at last, in our immediate day, we hear a Pope saying slave trading is wrong, and we see him sending an expedition to Africa to stop it. The texts remain: it is the practice that has changed. Why? Because the world has corrected the Bible. The Church never corrects it; and also never fails to drop in at the tail of the procession - and take the credit of the correction. As she will presently do in this instance.
Christian England supported slavery and encouraged it for two hundred and fifty years, and her church’s consecrated ministers looked on, sometimes taking an active hand, the rest of the time indifferent. England’s interest in the business may be called a Christian interest, a Christian industry. She had her full share in its revival after a long period of inactivity, and his revival was a Christian monopoly; that is to say, it was in the hands of Christian countries exclusively. English parliaments aided the slave traffic and protected it; two English kings held stock in slave-catching companies. The first regular English slave hunter - John Hawkins, of still revered memory - made such successful havoc, on his second voyage, in the matter of surprising and burning villages, and maiming, slaughtering, capturing, and selling their unoffending inhabitants, that his delighted queen conferred the chivalric honor of knighthood on him - a rank which had acquired its chief esteem and distinction in other and earlier fields of Christian effort. The new knight, with characteristic English frankness and brusque simplicity, chose as his device the figure of a negro slave, kneeling and in chains. Sir John’s work was the invention of Christians, was to remain a bloody and awful monopoly in the hands of Christians for a quarter of a millennium, was to destroy homes, separate families, enslave friendless men and women, and break a myriad of human hearts, to the end that Christian nations might be prosperous and comfortable, Christian churches be built, and the gospel of the meek and merciful Redeemer be spread abroad in the earth; and so in the name of his ship, unsuspected but eloquent and clear, lay hidden prophecy. She was called the Jesus.
But at last in England, an illegitimate Christian rose against slavery. It is curious that when a Christian rises against a rooted wrong at all, he is usually an illegitimate Christian, member of some despised and bastard sect. There was a bitter struggle, but in the end the slave trade had to go - and went. The Biblical authorization remained, but the practice changed.
Then - the usual thing happened; the visiting English critic among us began straightway to hold up his pious hands in horror at our slavery. His distress was unappeasable, his words full of bitterness and contempt. It is true we had not so many as fifteen hundred thousand slaves for him to worry about, while his England still owned twelve millions, in her foreign possessions; but that fact did not modify his wail any, or stay his tears, or soften his censure. The fact that every time we had tried to get rid of our slavery in previous generations, but had always been obstructed, balked, and defeated by England, was a matter of no consequence to him; it was ancient history, and not worth the telling.
Our own conversion came at last. We began to stir against slavery. Hearts grew soft, here, there, and yonder. There was no place in the land where the seeker could not find some small budding sign of pity for the slave. No place in all the land but one - the pulpit. It yielded at last; it always does. It fought a strong and stubborn fight, and then did what it always does, joined the procession - at the tail end. Slavery fell. The slavery text remained; the practice changed, that was all.
During many ages there were witches. The Bible said so. The Bible commanded that they should not be allowed to live. Therefore the Church, after doing its duty in but a lazy and indolent way for eight hundred years, gathered up its halters, thumbscrews, and firebrands, and set about its holy work in earnest. She worked hard at it night and day during nine centuries and imprisoned, tortured, hanged, and burned whole hordes and armies of witches, and washed the Christian world clean with their foul blood.
Then it was discovered that there was no such thing as witches, and never had been. One does not know whether to laugh or to cry. Who discovered that there was no such thing as a witch - the priest, the parson? No, these never discover anything. At Salem, the parson clung pathetically to his witch text after the laity had abandoned it in remorse and tears for the crimes and cruelties it has persuaded them to do. The parson wanted more blood, more shame, more brutalities; it was the unconsecrated laity that stayed his hand. In Scotland the parson killed the witch after the magistrate had pronounced her innocent; and when the merciful legislature proposed to sweep the hideous laws against witches from the statute book, it was the parson who came imploring, with tears and imprecations, that they be suffered to stand.
There are no witches. The witch text remains; only the practice has changed. Hell fire is gone, but the text remains. Infant damnation is gone, but the text remains. More than two hundred death penalties are gone from the law books, but the texts that authorized them remain.
Is it not well worthy of note that of all the multitude of texts through which man has driven his annihilating pen he has never once made the mistake of obliterating a good and useful one? It does certainly seem to suggest that if man continues in the direction of enlightenment, his religious practice may, in the end, attain some semblance of human decency.
2012-03-16 (Friday)
Dear Log,Yesterday I went to a police station here, to file a report about someone having tried to use my credit card from my wallet that I lost. This is my first time even seeing a cop here in Canæda, much less a police station.
It looked like a demo / showroom model of a police station. It was SHINY. I sat in the ATRIUM and filled out a form.
The "police service" people had neither the demeanor nor attire of the Terminator-1000 / LAPD.
The officers looked like they each were given not only a generous monthly allowance for their uniform, but also a stipend for eyeglass frames and *coiffure*, with mandatory quarterly make-overs.
There was a rack, near the door, of pamphlets. One of them the heading "Complaints" and I picked it up and it said worried stern things, about how any police misconduct is taken extremely seriously by both the station and the Chancelors of Police or whatever, and so if you have any trouble, for the benefit of yourself and the community, please contact us about...
And flip over that cardstock pamphlet, and it says "Compliments"!, and about how the station and the Decons Of Policery are always very welcoming of anything you have to say about particular ways in which we in the Edmonton Police Service can focus on what helped you most, so...
There was another pamphlet about how March is Fraud Prevention Month. "There is no shortage of schemes and scams that fraudsters use to try to get people to part with their money. Be aware of the potential risks!..."
There was a high-screen monitor flipping thru an informational slideshow, and I glanced at it briefly. It was NOT a panic-inducing thing about "ZOMBIES WITH 'SHARPS' ARE GONNA LEAP OUT AND GIVE YOU THE HEP-C!" [f/ photo of needle in neck, to give me nightmares for life]. Instead, at the moment I glanced at it: "Our most recent study found that 71% of people who end up in prostitution were sexually abused as children and received no counseling for it".
Folks, I'm from LA. When I walk into a police station, I expect to see arc-weld marks on the floor from a recent "seige situation". I don't expect sociology.
And the only kind of "spatter" at this station was maybe a bit of a coffee stain on a desk because somebody forgot to use their coaster.
Tags: canadaCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: atrial
Current Music: Counting Crows- "Mister Jones" (on-hold music)
2012-01-28 (Saturday)
2012-01-22 (Sunday)
DEAR INTERNET,THE SAFEWORD IS *NOT* "YIFF".
Tags: farnonryCurrent Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Music: Electric Six- "Naked Pictures (Of Your Mother)"
2011-08-30 (Tuesday)
Dear Log,«Nietzsche was a Greek born two thousand years too late... but... It is in Heraclitus [!!!] that one finds the germ of his primary view of the universe— a view, to wit, that sees it, not as moral phenomenon, but as mere aesthetic representation. The God that Nietzsche imagined, in the end, was not far from the God that such an artist as Joseph Conrad imagines— a supreme craftsman, ever experimenting, ever coming closer to an ideal balancing of lines and forces, and yet always failing to work out the final harmony.»If you want such a picture of God, back away from the Joseph Conrad, and look toward Joseph Cornell— inexplicable, too strange to even qualify or disqualify as mentally ill, far past the red line where imagination and functional delusion are distinct... and notable for his artistic works, each of which is just itself and is literally self-contained, and which always begs for just one more little change, and which stops making sense the second you look away.—H.L. Mencken, ca. 1918, from his Foreword to his translation of Nietzsche's Antichrist.As cosmologies and theologies go, the idea of Universe as Cornell Box has a lot going for it; certainly, the issue of how the pieces are cobble weirdly together invites many analyses.
* * *
And, incidentally, there's a decent chance that Cornell read that volume of Nietzsche's with the introduction containing the above passage. He'd have found the tone of this book of Nietzsche's to be unwholesomely dark; but the introduction, on the other hand,...
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: boxy
Current Music: Towa Tei- Batucada
2011-08-29 (Monday)
Dear Log,Today I saw a site's search system start its results screen not with "Search Results:", but with "Let's See What We Have Here". It done rock my world.
Current Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Current Mood: enq
Current Music: Towa Tei- I Want To Relax, Please!
2011-07-30 (Saturday)
Dear Log,Another "poor life choice": I got a copy of The Plague by Camus and tonight I've read the first fifty pages. I THINK IT'S A SUBTLE ALLEGORY ABOUT SOMETHING, CAN'T TELL WHAT.
Tags: writingCurrent Location: Freak Wharf, AK
Current Mood: ganglian
Current Music: Queens of the Stone Age- No One Knows
2011-07-15 (Friday)
Dear Log,I used to live in Evanston and now I'm going to live in Edmonton and I muddle the words, so I'm going to call them both Entemanns.
Current Location: Freak Wharf, AK
Current Mood: twoshod
Current Music: Adam Ant- Goody Two Shoes
2011-07-14 (Thursday)
Dear Log,Wine boxes are the ideal size for packing books in and if you think that that is ironic then you are very extremely correct.
Current Location: Freak Wharf, AK
Current Mood: pact
Current Music: "Breaking Bad" title music
2011-07-11 (Monday)
Dear Log,Got a house in Edmonton. More importantly, found the Tim Horton's. The pieces/donuts are all falling into place.
Current Location: Ketchikan, AK
Current Mood: food now
Current Music: Dead or Alive- You Spin Me Right Round (Like A Record Baby)
Dear Log,«In audio components, it seems, black means high tech, silver means solid state, yellow means waterproof, woodgrain means you picked it up at Goodwill, and anything else means it's My First Sony.»—Carl Steadman, 1999, in a Feed product review of an mp3 player (where he made some very wrong predictions about MP3.)Current Location: Freak Wharf, AK
Current Mood: chrome
Current Music: MR. ICED TEA- COLORS