Relishing my apparently Italian laziness, I will skip my original plan to put these into a coherent narrative, and just list a bunch of things I got to enjoy in my 2 days in Turin, Italy (that's right, suckas, I get to go to Italy for work and the only catch is that I have to stay at the hotel the entire time and not see anything. but at least Italian is spoken on TV in my room).
· Conductor helping me jump onto a moving train following a frustrating though finally successful search for a ticket validation doohicky (it was nice of him)
· Train ride from turin to milan with the mountains flanking one side for most of the journey. How pretty.
· The sonic high-five of two trains passing at full speed
· The Suite 26, an "enormous room" for los italianos and las italianas of all ages, with pounding techno and great 3-person group dynamics (boy and girl making out, girl’s less attractive girlfriend unsuccesfully trying to turn hurt and insecurity into outward boredom)
· The sweet old lady at the food counter in the train station, who was nice enough to think my “accent” was french. I pulled off the order, my first successful italian feat, but was utterly stumped by the conversation that was poised to follow. All I could offer was “Ruso? Espanol?” I keep reverting to spanish as a defense mechanism.
· The pretentious exclusivito club that I stood outside of for a good 20 minutes, completely enthralled by the scene outside, as well as by a secret desire to be deemed special enough to let in without an ugly girl-in-tow covered in makeup or knowing someone at the club (the line was filled with increasingly agitated single guys looking to cajole the diminutive doormen).
· The club I did get into, filled with smoke, and lots of unhappy people dancing. One cute girl in the entire place. Where did all the beautiful women go?
· Beautiful during the day at least. At night they all go to places hidden from uninformed tourists like me.
· Oh and the block of irish pubs. Another sausage festival, but at least one of the pubs had a bunch of stocky italian guys wearing kilts and rugby shirts.
· An awesome walk around turin. The river Po. The Piazzas. The big old building with projected writing scrolling up it. The blueish backlighting all around town, especially in the big piazza. Galileo the fire twirler on via po playing with the celestial spheres in all their electrically-infused glory. The stereotypical italian babushka, hunched over and moving at a brisk block-an-hour pace. The via roma with its made up blue constellations, and thousands of designer garbage shops.
· Drunk dialing my mom, lena, and vanessa from the company cell phone.
· Oversleeping every morning by over 2 hours.
· All that work I keep thinking I will miraculously get done one of these days (1.5 days left). [I basically got it done, though "last minute " would be the euphemism of the century].
· On to milano.
Friday, December 17, 2004
Torino
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
just do it
From Gmail:
new ipods!
7 messages
amy wilson
To: bernard levin , Ilya , ahren , lynn ambrosino , mair , kells , "jwaful", Leanne Giusti
i'm totally getting the r. kelly one.
http://www.liebography.com/ipod.htm
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:34PM
who the hell is toby keith??
r. kelly=the way to go, obviously.
bernard levin Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:38PM
are you kidding me? toby keith is one of the huge hits of country for
the last many years. writes some scary-level patriotic songs, but
also has a couple songs i dig.
i don't know....the christina ipod is pretty tempting.
brandt can't watch, though, or he has to pay 100.
JWaful Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:46PM
Toby Keith is a red neck idiot. He claims that we should be at war with Iraq because "they" attacked us (brilliant logic). So he took offense at the Dixie Chicks for their comments about George Bush. One of the Chicks then wore a shirt on stage that said "FUTK".
They later played dumb and claimed it stood for "Freedom, Understanding, Truth and Knowledge" with a wink and a nod.
I'm definitely getting that one.
ahren Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:58PM
everytime a "reply all" is sent, an arab islamo-fundamentalist gets his wings...
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 8:16PM
sweet. another one.
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 8:16PM
and another.
ilya says: blogging
ahren says: "bwahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!!"
amy says: i blame waful
new ipods!
7 messages
amy wilson
To: bernard levin , Ilya , ahren , lynn ambrosino , mair , kells , "jwaful", Leanne Giusti
i'm totally getting the r. kelly one.
http://www.liebography.com/ipod.htm
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:34PM
who the hell is toby keith??
r. kelly=the way to go, obviously.
bernard levin Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:38PM
are you kidding me? toby keith is one of the huge hits of country for
the last many years. writes some scary-level patriotic songs, but
also has a couple songs i dig.
i don't know....the christina ipod is pretty tempting.
brandt can't watch, though, or he has to pay 100.
JWaful Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:46PM
Toby Keith is a red neck idiot. He claims that we should be at war with Iraq because "they" attacked us (brilliant logic). So he took offense at the Dixie Chicks for their comments about George Bush. One of the Chicks then wore a shirt on stage that said "FUTK".
They later played dumb and claimed it stood for "Freedom, Understanding, Truth and Knowledge" with a wink and a nod.
I'm definitely getting that one.
ahren Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 7:58PM
everytime a "reply all" is sent, an arab islamo-fundamentalist gets his wings...
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 8:16PM
sweet. another one.
lynn ambrosino Wed, Dec 15, 2004 at 8:16PM
and another.
ilya says: blogging
ahren says: "bwahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!!"
amy says: i blame waful
burn in hell
People ask me what I think about what's going on in my homeland - and are typically surprised to hear my indifference. yuschenko, yanukovich, street protests and the romantic saga of a proud people (whom no one gave a shit about as recently as a month ago) seeking to throw off their despotic rulers and drown themselves in a pool of joyous freedom. poisonings, the evil hand of that comfortingly familiar enemy, and a microcosm of the west vs. east divide. Well, I didn't become ukrainian (or russian to my more ignant acquaintances) until my arrival to these great states of ours. I used to be jewish, and any good ukrainian knows what to do with the jews.
From Ha'aretz (not precisely an impartial source):
"...Ukraine has a long history of bloody pogroms and persecution of Jews. In 1648, the nationalist forces of Bogdan Chmielnicki [national hero to this day] slaughtered some 100,000 Jews and destroyed around 300 communities. The pogroms recurred in every political and social crisis of the 18th century, in 1734, 1750 and 1768; at the end of 1919-1920 Civil War some 100,000 Jews were murdered; and during World War II the Nazis killed some 600,000 Jews, approximately half of Ukrainian Jewry, with active collaboration on the part of the locals. Survivors returning from Russia after the war were given a hostile welcome by their Ukrainian neighbors, and Kiev remained even after the war a hotbed for anti-Semitic publications..."
and
"...This past September, a series of incidents in Ukraine started: in Lviv, swastikas were drawn on a monument marking the place where a synagogue destroyed by the Nazis had stood, and slogans appeared on city walls calling for the killing of Russians and Jews; the trial of a drunken security agent who broke into a Jewish soup kitchen and attacked workers there has already been postponed three times, and there are some who see this as an indication of the government's anti-Semitic tendencies; in addition, the trial of the editor of the anti-Semitic journal Idealist has been twice postponed; in December, the windows of Kiev's Brodsky Street Synagogue were shattered, the same synagogue where hot meals are distributed and which provided refuge from the severe cold to dozens of Yushchenko supporters protesting against the results of the first round of elections."
From Ha'aretz (not precisely an impartial source):
"...Ukraine has a long history of bloody pogroms and persecution of Jews. In 1648, the nationalist forces of Bogdan Chmielnicki [national hero to this day] slaughtered some 100,000 Jews and destroyed around 300 communities. The pogroms recurred in every political and social crisis of the 18th century, in 1734, 1750 and 1768; at the end of 1919-1920 Civil War some 100,000 Jews were murdered; and during World War II the Nazis killed some 600,000 Jews, approximately half of Ukrainian Jewry, with active collaboration on the part of the locals. Survivors returning from Russia after the war were given a hostile welcome by their Ukrainian neighbors, and Kiev remained even after the war a hotbed for anti-Semitic publications..."
and
"...This past September, a series of incidents in Ukraine started: in Lviv, swastikas were drawn on a monument marking the place where a synagogue destroyed by the Nazis had stood, and slogans appeared on city walls calling for the killing of Russians and Jews; the trial of a drunken security agent who broke into a Jewish soup kitchen and attacked workers there has already been postponed three times, and there are some who see this as an indication of the government's anti-Semitic tendencies; in addition, the trial of the editor of the anti-Semitic journal Idealist has been twice postponed; in December, the windows of Kiev's Brodsky Street Synagogue were shattered, the same synagogue where hot meals are distributed and which provided refuge from the severe cold to dozens of Yushchenko supporters protesting against the results of the first round of elections."
Monday, November 22, 2004
Kerry's missed chance
Ukrainian Opposite Candidate Yushchenko Announces Victory, Says Election Results “Falsified”
As it turns out, as long as the exit polls say you won, you've won. I bet Kerry wishes he had known that. It would have been cool if he had announced himself as president - too bad there are so few northeast liberals in the army, or we could have tried a coup?
As it turns out, as long as the exit polls say you won, you've won. I bet Kerry wishes he had known that. It would have been cool if he had announced himself as president - too bad there are so few northeast liberals in the army, or we could have tried a coup?
Thursday, November 11, 2004
still jiggy
last weekend as i flew to las vegas to inagurate the greatest band that ever lived, i opted for delta song's movie option, and paid $5 to see...drumroll please...I, Robot. now the reviews i have heard of this movie have ranged from awful to god awful, but i decided it was better than doing work, so i plugged myself in and turned on.
the movie sucks. i mean by all objective standards it sucks. the dialog is awful. the "science" is fairly silly. the effects are pretty cool, but ridiculous (robots lighting up in red once they become evil is a good example). but you know what? i still like it, for one reason only, will "big willie style" smith. his heroically overacted, muscularized performance once again proves that the fresh prince still delivers.
as i dug deeper into my psyche, i realized that as will progressed to doing crappier and crappier movies, i liked all of them despite myself. independence day, men in black, enemy of the state, wild wild west. the list goes on. despite the obvious shortcomings of all of them (aside from ID4 which fucking rules), I keep coming back for more. he doesn't mean it. he'll change. he still loves me.
we can make it if we try, willie. we can make it if we try.
the movie sucks. i mean by all objective standards it sucks. the dialog is awful. the "science" is fairly silly. the effects are pretty cool, but ridiculous (robots lighting up in red once they become evil is a good example). but you know what? i still like it, for one reason only, will "big willie style" smith. his heroically overacted, muscularized performance once again proves that the fresh prince still delivers.
as i dug deeper into my psyche, i realized that as will progressed to doing crappier and crappier movies, i liked all of them despite myself. independence day, men in black, enemy of the state, wild wild west. the list goes on. despite the obvious shortcomings of all of them (aside from ID4 which fucking rules), I keep coming back for more. he doesn't mean it. he'll change. he still loves me.
we can make it if we try, willie. we can make it if we try.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Cabinet Reshuffle
Today the Bush administration announced the resignation of Attorney General John Ashcroft. Mr. Ashcroft completes a distinguished four year term of service to the American people. Replacing him will be Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich. Mr. Heydrich comes to us from his former post as the head of the Gestapo - an organization which he lead to unparalleled success in the meting out of righteous unmitigated justice. He will be joined by deputy attorney general Tomas de Torquemada, formerly Grand Inquisitor for her highness Queen Isabella - his centuries of experience successfully converting heretics are likely to prove invaluable to our faith-based initiatives. Please join me in congratulating our distinguished newcomers.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Hand of God
"He is still alive. He is not clinically dead. There is no brain death, but his condition is deteriorating. Because there has been no diagnosis, we don't know what's wrong with him."
Don't fuck with the chosen people.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
your revolution is over, the bums lost
the democrats control the entertainment industry, and their economic policies represent the bottom part of the wealth pyramid, which should mean they represent a very large chunk of the population. the kerry campaign had the most money ever. and yet they still lost in every category. what is missing?
do the democrats do studies to understand voters? what they care about? i think at this point they need to call every republican in ohio and florida and say "what will get you to vote for me next time"? are constituencies parcelled out by lobbying groups? or by race? or by wealth? i guess i still don't understand in the american system how smaller groups are represented.
in parliamentary systems it seems like you can just vote for the party you want, and then the party has a more clear agenda, and they join someone's coalition which allows them to promote this agenda. so i can vote for the things i really care about rather than the things i sort of care about, and then know that some of the things i care about will get done.
like the god people should have their own party. the ones who really believe that religion and religious belief belong in politics. and the people who want all those people to lose their right to vote. that's a party. and then all the good folks who just want to get high in their free time and not be arrested for it. that's a party (and what a party!)
given that we have 50 states why are the voting systems are as homogeneous as they are? it's like we have 50 labs to try different stuff and compare results, and instead we do the same experiment over and over again, find the results pretty dissatisfying, but still stick with the same thing.
my hope is that the democrats third resounding defeat in a row (counting the 2002 elections) will push people to reevaluate the way this is working. maybe it is time to hunker down for a few years and re-evaluate the way our system works. to chip away at the republican coalition by offering a credible alternative, rather than trying to pull them to what they see as an enemy party. or maybe we can have a little civil war - we do have them surrounded, though i think they have more nukes.
bring back the whigs?
do the democrats do studies to understand voters? what they care about? i think at this point they need to call every republican in ohio and florida and say "what will get you to vote for me next time"? are constituencies parcelled out by lobbying groups? or by race? or by wealth? i guess i still don't understand in the american system how smaller groups are represented.
in parliamentary systems it seems like you can just vote for the party you want, and then the party has a more clear agenda, and they join someone's coalition which allows them to promote this agenda. so i can vote for the things i really care about rather than the things i sort of care about, and then know that some of the things i care about will get done.
like the god people should have their own party. the ones who really believe that religion and religious belief belong in politics. and the people who want all those people to lose their right to vote. that's a party. and then all the good folks who just want to get high in their free time and not be arrested for it. that's a party (and what a party!)
given that we have 50 states why are the voting systems are as homogeneous as they are? it's like we have 50 labs to try different stuff and compare results, and instead we do the same experiment over and over again, find the results pretty dissatisfying, but still stick with the same thing.
my hope is that the democrats third resounding defeat in a row (counting the 2002 elections) will push people to reevaluate the way this is working. maybe it is time to hunker down for a few years and re-evaluate the way our system works. to chip away at the republican coalition by offering a credible alternative, rather than trying to pull them to what they see as an enemy party. or maybe we can have a little civil war - we do have them surrounded, though i think they have more nukes.
bring back the whigs?
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Rise up, fellow buddhists...
http://www.cbc.ca/cp/world/041102/w110234.html
The Dalai Lama should declare war on Osama, bring out the elite Samana paratroopers, and yoga the mujaheddin into the afterlife.
The Dalai Lama should declare war on Osama, bring out the elite Samana paratroopers, and yoga the mujaheddin into the afterlife.
Conversations with an ex...
how i've changed in 8 years...
ex: i just looked at your profile--i would never message you
ex: but i guess that's ok, since i'm not what you are looking for these days
me: :)
ex: i might write back if you messaged me first, because i do tend to click well with engineers
ex: but i'd probably go out with [girl] before you ;)
me: hehe
me: what do you not like about my profile?
ex: "truth?"
ex: "I'd also like to meet cute girls to make out with'"
ex: "the pic of you with another girl"
ex: the "about me" section
me: i like truth
ex: and:"fuck tv, netflix rules. oh and the family guy "
ex: makes you seem angry
me: excellent
ex: and "god i am so fucking corporate"
me: anger is one of my most endearing characteristics
ex: makes you seem too cool for school
me: which is true
me: and explained in my "about me" section :)
ex: oh, and "fuck me?! fuck you!!"
ex: also lots of anger
me: righteous anger
ex: i think that's everything
ex: i'm sure some girls like that stuff
ex: i just looked at your profile--i would never message you
ex: but i guess that's ok, since i'm not what you are looking for these days
me: :)
ex: i might write back if you messaged me first, because i do tend to click well with engineers
ex: but i'd probably go out with [girl] before you ;)
me: hehe
me: what do you not like about my profile?
ex: "truth?"
ex: "I'd also like to meet cute girls to make out with'"
ex: "the pic of you with another girl"
ex: the "about me" section
me: i like truth
ex: and:"fuck tv, netflix rules. oh and the family guy "
ex: makes you seem angry
me: excellent
ex: and "god i am so fucking corporate"
me: anger is one of my most endearing characteristics
ex: makes you seem too cool for school
me: which is true
me: and explained in my "about me" section :)
ex: oh, and "fuck me?! fuck you!!"
ex: also lots of anger
me: righteous anger
ex: i think that's everything
ex: i'm sure some girls like that stuff
Sunday, October 31, 2004
not me though. not me.
yesterday i was accused by bernard of my entries being too "heady" (i think that stands for self-indulgent intellectualizing bullshit; at least they are not dank yet). to cater to my readership, i will now give a simple summary of the weekend so far.
[Stylistic Context]
Friday afternoon
work is over
aj coming
step right up
uh huh, step right up
writhing log, oh yeah
urine control
everyone's a winner now
you got art i got art we all got art...interActive
vibrating string
"hot jeff" is awesome
so is joshun
step right up, mm hmm
2 tickets in one day
luxury ER visit
two for a dollar now
takeout dinner
back at bernard's house
...And the piAAAAno has been DRIIINKING (not me though. not me)
ajb jam
vrb's start. two for a dollar now
she's thin she's fat. and black
bernard's place is a..."hovel, shithole, palace? villa?"
allergies to gumbo - better than ever
We got a year-end clearance, so step right up
yeah, step right up
going out of business.
wake up hanging over the ceiling.
breakfast breakfast who's got my heady breakfast?
bloody sock parade
86 years
and the duck tour
quack quack
and the screaming viking nalgene
and bernard with 4 red bulls so far working on a record weekend returning to his caffeine addiction with blazing speed
so step right up
hey ma, how does it feel to be the world champions
we got a present for you
da da, da da da, da da, da da da
love that diiirttyyy waaater.
BOSTON you're my home
2 times 3 times 20 times thanks sully
indian buffet? what are we in college?
2 for a dollar now? well, step right up
taxi back (of course, jordan's in town)
another jam jam jam
you and i are. totally different. oh a gay joke how clever. i just work with what you give me.
bernard coming off the caffeine.
needs a nap. see you later alligator.
where are all the cabs? cerveza?
need a cab now. maybe we walk. maybe we cab? good tip we got. drive right up.
more relaxation.
titanic struggle.
backgammon.
9-8
i suck
wouldn't want it any other way
showers
time to go out
aurelie meeting french kids
they're two for a dollar tonight
bernard has a pre-red bull
comes over newly minted and elegant and bound to attract many more members of his persuasion
we've got a special
boys, step right up
another jammy jam. aj on the swiss ball. aj on electric. aj on the drum. b sings super good. big fucking surprise.
maybe the enormous room
more red bulls of course
good couch, but no dance floor
good tunes but little shaking
and the PIAAANNNOOO has beeen DRINKING (not me?)
finally the cantab
little joe cook the peanut
empty place
midnight special
two for the price of three
god i rule at bargaining (at least when drunk)
so we stepped right up
da da da da da da da
GET UP, GET ON UP
I said, get up, get on up
Sex machines special good deal never needs winding
and more alcohol always helps makes you fitter happier more productive
shake your booty cutie
ah shake your booty cutie
the peanut man
he's got your funk
he's got a bass player
he's got a saxofone
he's got a stroke
he's the man man man
so step right up
bernard dancing with mair's mom
we lead the dance floor
the night is young
aram shows up
quintana reprise
hairnets hairnets who's got hairnets
two for a dollar now
and slices slices
we're getting slices
new york pizza (tommys)
we stepped right up
finally my house
tumbling tumbleweed
i feel so drunk you feel so drunk we all so drunk the night is young the clock turns back and i'm still drunk and i wake up and i'm still drunk the room is spinning i feel drunk sometimes i drink and then feel drunk and tom waits sings still in my head and i feel drunk but i can't sleep an extra hour and work not done bags under the eyes smoke filled throat until next drink next drink is soon i still feel drunk but ready to go a pretty day another day blow off more work and sit around more vodka, bowls, backgammon and halloween lame costume still drunk particle with uma so much excitement i am ready step right up
and the piano will keep drinking
[Stylistic Context]
Friday afternoon
work is over
aj coming
step right up
uh huh, step right up
writhing log, oh yeah
urine control
everyone's a winner now
you got art i got art we all got art...interActive
vibrating string
"hot jeff" is awesome
so is joshun
step right up, mm hmm
2 tickets in one day
luxury ER visit
two for a dollar now
takeout dinner
back at bernard's house
...And the piAAAAno has been DRIIINKING (not me though. not me)
ajb jam
vrb's start. two for a dollar now
she's thin she's fat. and black
bernard's place is a..."hovel, shithole, palace? villa?"
allergies to gumbo - better than ever
We got a year-end clearance, so step right up
yeah, step right up
going out of business.
wake up hanging over the ceiling.
breakfast breakfast who's got my heady breakfast?
bloody sock parade
86 years
and the duck tour
quack quack
and the screaming viking nalgene
and bernard with 4 red bulls so far working on a record weekend returning to his caffeine addiction with blazing speed
so step right up
hey ma, how does it feel to be the world champions
we got a present for you
da da, da da da, da da, da da da
love that diiirttyyy waaater.
BOSTON you're my home
2 times 3 times 20 times thanks sully
indian buffet? what are we in college?
2 for a dollar now? well, step right up
taxi back (of course, jordan's in town)
another jam jam jam
you and i are. totally different. oh a gay joke how clever. i just work with what you give me.
bernard coming off the caffeine.
needs a nap. see you later alligator.
where are all the cabs? cerveza?
need a cab now. maybe we walk. maybe we cab? good tip we got. drive right up.
more relaxation.
titanic struggle.
backgammon.
9-8
i suck
wouldn't want it any other way
showers
time to go out
aurelie meeting french kids
they're two for a dollar tonight
bernard has a pre-red bull
comes over newly minted and elegant and bound to attract many more members of his persuasion
we've got a special
boys, step right up
another jammy jam. aj on the swiss ball. aj on electric. aj on the drum. b sings super good. big fucking surprise.
maybe the enormous room
more red bulls of course
good couch, but no dance floor
good tunes but little shaking
and the PIAAANNNOOO has beeen DRINKING (not me?)
finally the cantab
little joe cook the peanut
empty place
midnight special
two for the price of three
god i rule at bargaining (at least when drunk)
so we stepped right up
da da da da da da da
GET UP, GET ON UP
I said, get up, get on up
Sex machines special good deal never needs winding
and more alcohol always helps makes you fitter happier more productive
shake your booty cutie
ah shake your booty cutie
the peanut man
he's got your funk
he's got a bass player
he's got a saxofone
he's got a stroke
he's the man man man
so step right up
bernard dancing with mair's mom
we lead the dance floor
the night is young
aram shows up
quintana reprise
hairnets hairnets who's got hairnets
two for a dollar now
and slices slices
we're getting slices
new york pizza (tommys)
we stepped right up
finally my house
tumbling tumbleweed
i feel so drunk you feel so drunk we all so drunk the night is young the clock turns back and i'm still drunk and i wake up and i'm still drunk the room is spinning i feel drunk sometimes i drink and then feel drunk and tom waits sings still in my head and i feel drunk but i can't sleep an extra hour and work not done bags under the eyes smoke filled throat until next drink next drink is soon i still feel drunk but ready to go a pretty day another day blow off more work and sit around more vodka, bowls, backgammon and halloween lame costume still drunk particle with uma so much excitement i am ready step right up
and the piano will keep drinking
Monday, October 25, 2004
michigana
I visited jord-ann arbor this weekend to catch the michigan away game on TV and to see my lawyer of a former roommate. The trip followed a day trip to LA, so I was still a little bit loopy (see previous post) from the stale plane air and the perfect california weather.
After a superbly-timed pickup at the hyper-linear DTW airport, we drove through the miles of desolation and stripmallity that approach the bustling metropolis of Ann Arbor. Upon arrival, we picked up a few companions and proceeded straight to an always-overwhelming indian dinner. despite our attempts, we failed to answer the age-old question "how much naan is really too much" (despite a 20 minute discussion with the waiter standing by in painful anticipation).
after the meal, we proceeded to Jordan's new digs. He lives in the tower of london - the only 5-story walk-up in the otherwise 3-story law quad. The 2 2-room "suites" come complete with hexagonal niches, gargoyle perches, and the perfect shot at that pesky professor who doesn't know when to stop asking questions. In addition to the built-in workout, the building also offers a brotherhood bathroom, shared among ten or so inhabitants of the top floors. The custodial staff were nice enough to provide me with an excellent cot and sheet combination, and the living room featured good old Tivo, so the accomodations were all set.
we spent some time at a couple of local college bars. a bit of friday night karaoke - humor highlight involves 5 guys singing "byebyebye" with complete knowledge of the lyrics, no vocal talent, and numerous adoring cheerleaders. for jordan the highlight likely was the moment that I felt someone's hands on my back and turned around to see a 5-4 170lb girl smiling and pointing at her 5-5 240lb girlfriend, who, on cue, compliments my hair. it was looking particularly great that night, so who can blame her.
waking up with a mild hangover, we went for a long walk through an arboretum, got completely soaked in the rain, and each enjoyed a wholly satisfying nature piss. you might say it was a perfect date. this was followed by some pickup basketball ("The only thing that's trippin' is you, now go on home and cry to your momma, she waitin' for you. This is MY house!")
The next stop was a sports bar for game 1. Aside from the red sox winning, the best aspect of the night was definitely our neighbors on the balcony. Or the pirate. At the start it was just three already-drunk guys, complaining that their homo friends (including a soon-to-be groom) were sitting at the hotel playing poker rather than coming out for the game. As the bar started filling up, hesitant girls started seeking space in our area, but were generally deterred by the loud drunken assholeness (I kept telling Jordan to calm down but he just wouldn't listen). But then our new friends hit the jackpot - a bachelorette party arrived, and suddently the boys had 12 girls to play with. all their alleged fandom disappeared as they forged newer and sadder attempts to get laid. Around the 7th, a drunk mustachioed 45-year old stumbled upstairs and headed to our side of the balcony. He and I had a nice chat - he was looking for some young girls to hang out with, so naturally i pointed him across the balcony to our favorite meat market, and then proceeded to watch him chat up one girl after another, bring them drinks, work down the ranks, until being ejected by the sullen fraternity boys. oh and there was a captain morgan. he gave us free rum. i drew a red mustache on his face with a crayon he got mad.
we finished off the night with a law party. booze, important people, and a dj too into his toys. and of course the celebratory slice to cap a good day.
After a superbly-timed pickup at the hyper-linear DTW airport, we drove through the miles of desolation and stripmallity that approach the bustling metropolis of Ann Arbor. Upon arrival, we picked up a few companions and proceeded straight to an always-overwhelming indian dinner. despite our attempts, we failed to answer the age-old question "how much naan is really too much" (despite a 20 minute discussion with the waiter standing by in painful anticipation).
after the meal, we proceeded to Jordan's new digs. He lives in the tower of london - the only 5-story walk-up in the otherwise 3-story law quad. The 2 2-room "suites" come complete with hexagonal niches, gargoyle perches, and the perfect shot at that pesky professor who doesn't know when to stop asking questions. In addition to the built-in workout, the building also offers a brotherhood bathroom, shared among ten or so inhabitants of the top floors. The custodial staff were nice enough to provide me with an excellent cot and sheet combination, and the living room featured good old Tivo, so the accomodations were all set.
we spent some time at a couple of local college bars. a bit of friday night karaoke - humor highlight involves 5 guys singing "byebyebye" with complete knowledge of the lyrics, no vocal talent, and numerous adoring cheerleaders. for jordan the highlight likely was the moment that I felt someone's hands on my back and turned around to see a 5-4 170lb girl smiling and pointing at her 5-5 240lb girlfriend, who, on cue, compliments my hair. it was looking particularly great that night, so who can blame her.
waking up with a mild hangover, we went for a long walk through an arboretum, got completely soaked in the rain, and each enjoyed a wholly satisfying nature piss. you might say it was a perfect date. this was followed by some pickup basketball ("The only thing that's trippin' is you, now go on home and cry to your momma, she waitin' for you. This is MY house!")
The next stop was a sports bar for game 1. Aside from the red sox winning, the best aspect of the night was definitely our neighbors on the balcony. Or the pirate. At the start it was just three already-drunk guys, complaining that their homo friends (including a soon-to-be groom) were sitting at the hotel playing poker rather than coming out for the game. As the bar started filling up, hesitant girls started seeking space in our area, but were generally deterred by the loud drunken assholeness (I kept telling Jordan to calm down but he just wouldn't listen). But then our new friends hit the jackpot - a bachelorette party arrived, and suddently the boys had 12 girls to play with. all their alleged fandom disappeared as they forged newer and sadder attempts to get laid. Around the 7th, a drunk mustachioed 45-year old stumbled upstairs and headed to our side of the balcony. He and I had a nice chat - he was looking for some young girls to hang out with, so naturally i pointed him across the balcony to our favorite meat market, and then proceeded to watch him chat up one girl after another, bring them drinks, work down the ranks, until being ejected by the sullen fraternity boys. oh and there was a captain morgan. he gave us free rum. i drew a red mustache on his face with a crayon he got mad.
we finished off the night with a law party. booze, important people, and a dj too into his toys. and of course the celebratory slice to cap a good day.
You wake up in Boston, DTW, LAX...
The plane creaked its way over to the runway. the pilot slammed on the breaks to avoid running over a scurrying Cessna, overeager to get away from the now mundane surroundings of the graying airport. the passengers anxiously awaited the brief thrill of the ascent, some additionally frightened by the minutes of silence passing away in the absence of approved and non-approved electronic devices. the girl next to me was attempting to calm her friend across the plane, who was innocent enough to be nervous about flying. I suppose unincorporated people spend a lot less time flying than I do. Or maybe more time.
the plane revved its engines and coasted to an easy ascent. the first few minutes were spent in the dense clouds, purveyors of melancholy upon an otherwise ecstatic red sox nation. Heroically, we burst through to a serene landscape, a soft sea of whipped cream, set off by a red and yellow sunset. In our continued arrogance we pursued the sun, anxious to prolong the daylight hours of what at 5pm had officially become a weekend. I kept expecting the wing adjoining my seat to spontaneously combust, causing the quick return to home base. I knew though that we would maintain the altitude as long as we needed to, and land when it was time to go and when the fuel was on the low side. Thanks, engineering.
while waiting in the airport I had been reading a book about Zen. Over the last six months I had gradually been evolving my perception of life, and the process had alerted me to having become a Buddhist in essence. My actual knowledge of the practices is pretty limited, but it does not really seem relevant. What I have learned is a slightly different attitude toward change, time, present, being.
the zen book illustrated with a number of zen stories and koans how teachers try to make people grasp the essence of Buddhism. the koan concept seems like an interesting art. Creating a statement or idea that is different enough from daily thinking which can make a shift in perspective possible and give you something to unthink about. And personalized for the questioner. the book also talked about the ritual/meditative aspects of Buddhism as ways to attain this understanding, to focus yourself in the present. the koans are enjoyable in a similar way as mathematical paradoxes. They can expose some cracks in the system, and oftentimes at a point when you didn't even realize there was a system there.
Buddhism seems interesting in that it simultaneously enables and squashes mysticism associated with it. It's almost as if it plays on that instinct that causes people to seek a life outside the present (religion, etc.), but then bitch slaps them whenever they think they have attained something mystical.
it also seems to me perfectly compatible with rational thought and a great life. Nietzsche labeled it an honest creed for the meek, an unapologetic version of Christianity. It does not need to be that (as the samurai exemplify). [I am going to stop prefacing everything with "seems to me" now, which I am doing in order to not present my own half baked ideas as representative of anything about "real" Buddhism.] Buddhism is nietzschean - take what your self is today, and do the things that the self responds to well. Become what you are but make what you are at the same time. Buddhism is inherently non-violent and compassionate, whereas Friedrich gives struggle the respect it deserves. the transition occurs when you become self enough that you can expand your sphere of influence to shape the world around you in the same way - constructed by you into forms that fit it and that makes sense. the artistic impulse and ability become easier as soon as you recognize that, in the background, life just is and will be, and you will be fine in it as long as you want to and need to.
creation does not need to be violent, though it sometimes is. But conflict is a great driver, and there is no reason to do away with it. You can be compassionate of your opponent as you vanquish him or as he vanquishes you, and yet not waver in your pursuit. He makes you better, so how can you not respect him.
my transition at the convenient quarter century mark took me a bit by surprise, though I can quite easily construct a coherent story of the path that got me here, everything quite predestined in hindsight. I am excited to see how having this as a starting point for the next twenty five years will work out.
in case you've read this far and are feeling a bit gipped by the rambling path that these thoughts have taken, I will try to sum up what makes sense to me.
though there are endpoints to the life line, they are generally not as relevant as people think. It's better to model life as a true geometric line. When you are at any particular segment on the line (a point would be a bit too simplistic and creates some of these philosophy paradoxes), you see a bunch of lines before you, and probably a few lines behind you, depending on how good your memory is. Because the line is infinite, your current segment is not further or closer to anything that you want. As you change, you move through segments, but the context stays the same. Within the segment, you pursue, seek, desire, plan, remember, race. You work to make things are you like them to be. You make everything an act of creation and a focus of attention. And the line is always there, ready to grasp when a segment gets tough or great. So now you can laugh at everything, and still take it seriously. You can feel more pain then ever and know that you can heal. You can be where you are first. You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance well they're no friends of mine (except ahren).
the plane revved its engines and coasted to an easy ascent. the first few minutes were spent in the dense clouds, purveyors of melancholy upon an otherwise ecstatic red sox nation. Heroically, we burst through to a serene landscape, a soft sea of whipped cream, set off by a red and yellow sunset. In our continued arrogance we pursued the sun, anxious to prolong the daylight hours of what at 5pm had officially become a weekend. I kept expecting the wing adjoining my seat to spontaneously combust, causing the quick return to home base. I knew though that we would maintain the altitude as long as we needed to, and land when it was time to go and when the fuel was on the low side. Thanks, engineering.
while waiting in the airport I had been reading a book about Zen. Over the last six months I had gradually been evolving my perception of life, and the process had alerted me to having become a Buddhist in essence. My actual knowledge of the practices is pretty limited, but it does not really seem relevant. What I have learned is a slightly different attitude toward change, time, present, being.
the zen book illustrated with a number of zen stories and koans how teachers try to make people grasp the essence of Buddhism. the koan concept seems like an interesting art. Creating a statement or idea that is different enough from daily thinking which can make a shift in perspective possible and give you something to unthink about. And personalized for the questioner. the book also talked about the ritual/meditative aspects of Buddhism as ways to attain this understanding, to focus yourself in the present. the koans are enjoyable in a similar way as mathematical paradoxes. They can expose some cracks in the system, and oftentimes at a point when you didn't even realize there was a system there.
Buddhism seems interesting in that it simultaneously enables and squashes mysticism associated with it. It's almost as if it plays on that instinct that causes people to seek a life outside the present (religion, etc.), but then bitch slaps them whenever they think they have attained something mystical.
it also seems to me perfectly compatible with rational thought and a great life. Nietzsche labeled it an honest creed for the meek, an unapologetic version of Christianity. It does not need to be that (as the samurai exemplify). [I am going to stop prefacing everything with "seems to me" now, which I am doing in order to not present my own half baked ideas as representative of anything about "real" Buddhism.] Buddhism is nietzschean - take what your self is today, and do the things that the self responds to well. Become what you are but make what you are at the same time. Buddhism is inherently non-violent and compassionate, whereas Friedrich gives struggle the respect it deserves. the transition occurs when you become self enough that you can expand your sphere of influence to shape the world around you in the same way - constructed by you into forms that fit it and that makes sense. the artistic impulse and ability become easier as soon as you recognize that, in the background, life just is and will be, and you will be fine in it as long as you want to and need to.
creation does not need to be violent, though it sometimes is. But conflict is a great driver, and there is no reason to do away with it. You can be compassionate of your opponent as you vanquish him or as he vanquishes you, and yet not waver in your pursuit. He makes you better, so how can you not respect him.
my transition at the convenient quarter century mark took me a bit by surprise, though I can quite easily construct a coherent story of the path that got me here, everything quite predestined in hindsight. I am excited to see how having this as a starting point for the next twenty five years will work out.
in case you've read this far and are feeling a bit gipped by the rambling path that these thoughts have taken, I will try to sum up what makes sense to me.
though there are endpoints to the life line, they are generally not as relevant as people think. It's better to model life as a true geometric line. When you are at any particular segment on the line (a point would be a bit too simplistic and creates some of these philosophy paradoxes), you see a bunch of lines before you, and probably a few lines behind you, depending on how good your memory is. Because the line is infinite, your current segment is not further or closer to anything that you want. As you change, you move through segments, but the context stays the same. Within the segment, you pursue, seek, desire, plan, remember, race. You work to make things are you like them to be. You make everything an act of creation and a focus of attention. And the line is always there, ready to grasp when a segment gets tough or great. So now you can laugh at everything, and still take it seriously. You can feel more pain then ever and know that you can heal. You can be where you are first. You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance well they're no friends of mine (except ahren).
Friday, October 08, 2004
fuck me?! fuck you!!
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/485987.html
Last night there was a bombing in the Sinai peninsula in Egypt, the home of some of my fondest travelling memories. Summer of 2000 we took a few days out of Israel to go down to this amazing, dirt cheap piece of red sea heaven. set off by red mountains on one side and the sea on the other, the coast is dotted with small resorts - tarabin, nueba, ras satan, and a few bigger ones like Taba and Sharm el Sheikh. We got there late one June night, crossing the border with our backpacks to the snickering of the Egyptian guards. What followed was the scariest cab ride ever, where Jordan agitated the already insane driver by failing to throw his lit cigarette butt out of the window, with it ending up in the seats instead. but the end proved worth it, as we found ourselves lounging on the beach, receiving shelter and food for $3 a day, playing endless backgammon, smoking shitty pot, scuba diving, and hanging out with the bedouin.
most of the place was basically a hippie haven. take your allowance and your birkenstocks, and go hang out in the heat for a few weeks. get some good diving in. it's where the cooler israelis went to hang out and get away from the daily bomb-laden grind. and now that's been fucked too. who do the bombers think they are screwing? sure the people they kill and their relatives (most of whom are probably against sharon anyway, after all they ignored his warnings not to go to sinai). but mostly it's the economy on that beautiful peninsula that is supported almost exclusively by tourist money, and their fellow arabs who will now have no way to feed their families. i suppose it's a good recruiting strategy - blame israel, make people desperate, and then recruit their kids into your shitty organization.
fuck you! what's mine is mine. fucking nihilists. you discredit your cause, your nation, and your religion, and no punishment is too great for you. and the rest of you fucking apologists! this is a problem that you, the arab and muslim people, have to fix. it's a cancer in your midst, and you hold the responsibility for making change happen. stop blaming everyone else, and deal with it. recover the name of islam and make it what you believe it to be.
Last night there was a bombing in the Sinai peninsula in Egypt, the home of some of my fondest travelling memories. Summer of 2000 we took a few days out of Israel to go down to this amazing, dirt cheap piece of red sea heaven. set off by red mountains on one side and the sea on the other, the coast is dotted with small resorts - tarabin, nueba, ras satan, and a few bigger ones like Taba and Sharm el Sheikh. We got there late one June night, crossing the border with our backpacks to the snickering of the Egyptian guards. What followed was the scariest cab ride ever, where Jordan agitated the already insane driver by failing to throw his lit cigarette butt out of the window, with it ending up in the seats instead. but the end proved worth it, as we found ourselves lounging on the beach, receiving shelter and food for $3 a day, playing endless backgammon, smoking shitty pot, scuba diving, and hanging out with the bedouin.
most of the place was basically a hippie haven. take your allowance and your birkenstocks, and go hang out in the heat for a few weeks. get some good diving in. it's where the cooler israelis went to hang out and get away from the daily bomb-laden grind. and now that's been fucked too. who do the bombers think they are screwing? sure the people they kill and their relatives (most of whom are probably against sharon anyway, after all they ignored his warnings not to go to sinai). but mostly it's the economy on that beautiful peninsula that is supported almost exclusively by tourist money, and their fellow arabs who will now have no way to feed their families. i suppose it's a good recruiting strategy - blame israel, make people desperate, and then recruit their kids into your shitty organization.
fuck you! what's mine is mine. fucking nihilists. you discredit your cause, your nation, and your religion, and no punishment is too great for you. and the rest of you fucking apologists! this is a problem that you, the arab and muslim people, have to fix. it's a cancer in your midst, and you hold the responsibility for making change happen. stop blaming everyone else, and deal with it. recover the name of islam and make it what you believe it to be.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
don't dubya up cheney
at the risk of repeating the same old argument, why isn't dick cheney running for president, with an idiot dubya for a vp? i mean at least he can communicate. at least he can make persuasive arguments and make up facts with authority. why is it that everyone just accepted that it's ok for a president (or a presidential candidate) to not be a good debater? if i am vying for the job of lead designer of the next supercomputer, how many people can i convince to let me do it by saying "well, i am not so good at math, but I am really good at making decisions." Isn't it one of the politician's main jobs to be able to convince others of their viewpoint? if not the only job?
say what you will about cheney, but he at least has the ability to respond to the opponent's line of reasoning, to attack. also, though likely this was a calculated action, i think the way he responded to the whole gay marriage thing was down right dignified - it seemed clear that he disagreed with bush on the issue, and he just left it at that.
i'd love to see kerry and rumsfeld debate. that would rule. or maybe ahren and aram. that would rule too.
say what you will about cheney, but he at least has the ability to respond to the opponent's line of reasoning, to attack. also, though likely this was a calculated action, i think the way he responded to the whole gay marriage thing was down right dignified - it seemed clear that he disagreed with bush on the issue, and he just left it at that.
i'd love to see kerry and rumsfeld debate. that would rule. or maybe ahren and aram. that would rule too.
Al Gore's Internet strikes again
'Cheney meant to cite FactCheck.org on another occasion during the debate but he got it wrong, and unintentionally steered Web surfers to a site run by the anti-Bush activist billionaire, George Soros. Cheney said "factcheck.com," when he should have used "org."'
I think after the e-bay claims and this, Dickey boy just needs to go back to his filing cabinets.
Friday, October 01, 2004
...that creep can roll
On wednesday night I attended a performance of the newly reformed, recongealed, reconstituted Colonel Claypool's Bucket of Bernie Brains, a.k.a. c2b3. Despite my traditional lazy ass late start, my financial irresponsibility came through once again as a $20 cab delivered me safely to the roxy, 2 blocks away from a t station, just as Bernie Worrel of P-Funk (that's Parliament Funkadelic to you, bitch) was gettin his groove thang going, signalling the preparations for the mothership liftoff. however, things were about to go horribly wrong.
enter the newly called up national guard reserve colonel claypool. for the first "song" he dons a rubber elvis hat and matching sunglasses and begins introducing creepy noises from his equally creepy looking bass. and when you hear creepy, you know who can't be far away - you guessed it, folks, the one and only, the man with 6 inch fingers, KFC's official rep to the underworld, BucketHead. In case his outfit was not weird enough, he put a nice little piece of funeral tape across the bucket.
FUNERAL
The noises continued filling the space over the already frenzied audience. from my vantage point to the side and above the stage i could see the evil brewing. finally brain, the drummer, came in to put a little order in the nonsense. put a beat around it and everyone will believe it's music. and we did.
just to top off the creepy build up the song concluded with an asian girl, dressed like one of those little anime girls with little antennas on her head, coming out to sing the closing "lyrics".
As the jam came to an end, claypool did that awesome thing that bass players do and started the run to righteousness. Buckethead was not far behind, and Brain kept them honest. Bernie just smoked cigarettes and looked cool - he'd "earned" it (doing all that acid).
The third song featured the reintroduction of the little asian girl - Gabby Lala, playing the weirdest looking instrument i had ever seen. It was like a guitar sitar weirdo thing, and she was great. her and buckethead did a pretty good duet for a while, and les came back with an upright, and they all had this great melodic pretty song. but i was not lulled into a false sense of security.
since i was becoming progressively more intoxicated, the later events blur into more of a melty experience. the highlights include claypool changing outfits a minimum of 5 times, buckethead wearing a much creepier than usual mask, claypool wearing a full ape mask while playing a bass with a drumstick and a lever, bernie clearly "wanting the funk", buckethead doing the robot, brain drum solo, buckethead playing with a rubber chicken, claypool's birthday celebration (he is 73, thank you albuquerque, new mexico), a star wars shred session by the bucket man, and a happy birthday funk jam kicked off by bernie, that sick old fuck, the most evil of them all, that doesn't have to do any work anymore - just wear good outfits and shake his dessicated head as the cigarette in his mouth further dilapidates the skin on his face.
fucking claypool, man...
enter the newly called up national guard reserve colonel claypool. for the first "song" he dons a rubber elvis hat and matching sunglasses and begins introducing creepy noises from his equally creepy looking bass. and when you hear creepy, you know who can't be far away - you guessed it, folks, the one and only, the man with 6 inch fingers, KFC's official rep to the underworld, BucketHead. In case his outfit was not weird enough, he put a nice little piece of funeral tape across the bucket.
FUNERAL
The noises continued filling the space over the already frenzied audience. from my vantage point to the side and above the stage i could see the evil brewing. finally brain, the drummer, came in to put a little order in the nonsense. put a beat around it and everyone will believe it's music. and we did.
just to top off the creepy build up the song concluded with an asian girl, dressed like one of those little anime girls with little antennas on her head, coming out to sing the closing "lyrics".
As the jam came to an end, claypool did that awesome thing that bass players do and started the run to righteousness. Buckethead was not far behind, and Brain kept them honest. Bernie just smoked cigarettes and looked cool - he'd "earned" it (doing all that acid).
The third song featured the reintroduction of the little asian girl - Gabby Lala, playing the weirdest looking instrument i had ever seen. It was like a guitar sitar weirdo thing, and she was great. her and buckethead did a pretty good duet for a while, and les came back with an upright, and they all had this great melodic pretty song. but i was not lulled into a false sense of security.
since i was becoming progressively more intoxicated, the later events blur into more of a melty experience. the highlights include claypool changing outfits a minimum of 5 times, buckethead wearing a much creepier than usual mask, claypool wearing a full ape mask while playing a bass with a drumstick and a lever, bernie clearly "wanting the funk", buckethead doing the robot, brain drum solo, buckethead playing with a rubber chicken, claypool's birthday celebration (he is 73, thank you albuquerque, new mexico), a star wars shred session by the bucket man, and a happy birthday funk jam kicked off by bernie, that sick old fuck, the most evil of them all, that doesn't have to do any work anymore - just wear good outfits and shake his dessicated head as the cigarette in his mouth further dilapidates the skin on his face.
fucking claypool, man...
Monday, August 30, 2004
only as good as his tools...
in order to fix my mp3 player, i purchased a $1.49 eyeglass repair kit at my local CVS (incidentally why have no pharmacies figured out an efficient checkout process? can they just get absorbed by supermarkets and get it over with?) imagine my surprise when the kit turned out to be perfect. the screwdriver, unlike previous kits i have purchased, was actualy "designed". it has a magnetic tip, which is clearly essential for the teeny tiny screws. the "handle" part grips really well. and the top spins, so you can apply pressure with your palm as you tighten or loosen the screw. it made the experience of taking a square-inch sized player apart and putting it back together a joy rather than the pain in the ass it would have otherwise been. hooray taiwan!
Thursday, August 26, 2004
again with the miscellany...
For the losers like me who still have roommates - www.buddybills.com
And for the gmail fans out there -
Gmail Helper
worst post ever
And for the gmail fans out there -
Gmail Helper
worst post ever
Today is a great day for me. I can stop looking for an apartment. I have been looking on and off for the last month. In addition to the process being inherently annoying, I also pursued it along 4 different branches, which essentially means 4 times as much work as a simple search. In the end I had determined that I can't really find anything nearly as good as my current place, even at a much higher price. That was making me pretty depressed, until, serendipitously, at jordan's (my former roommate's) goodbye dinner, one of his work friends turned out to have a friend looking for a place in Harvard square. it is great when things work out. it is great that i will have the next two weekends to do whatever i want rather than pack, move, unpack, etc. That just rules.
On my odyssey I looked into buying a place too. It seems to me like the housing market in Cambridge pretty much has to be overpriced now. So my official prediction is that prices drop or at least stagnate for 2005 and 2006, and then pick up again. For those of you considering my advice as valid, here's my official disclosure - I know nothing.
yay, freedom!
On my odyssey I looked into buying a place too. It seems to me like the housing market in Cambridge pretty much has to be overpriced now. So my official prediction is that prices drop or at least stagnate for 2005 and 2006, and then pick up again. For those of you considering my advice as valid, here's my official disclosure - I know nothing.
yay, freedom!
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Monday, August 23, 2004
Monday, August 16, 2004
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Thursday, July 01, 2004
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Three is always fighting for status. Zero, one and two have establishe dthemselves as essential entities in the universe as we understand it. Zero – a start, an absence, a destination, a center. One. A point of identity. The oneness of the universe is one of the two major philosophies. The twoness being the other, binary logic dominating our thought, our language, or understanding of the world. The tension between one and two drives the artistic and spritual development of the world at large. The tension between one and zero drives survival and progress, the technological and scientific development. But a three. It wants to be in the club so badly, and perhaps the other numbers would even consider it a full member, but it is a place it can never feel secure. And so it inherently posesses a tentativeness, and a restlessness, always poised for the next step, sometimes in retreat, sometimes in advancement. It coopted christianity as a vehicle for ascendence, and has done a pretty great job of it. It has captured the imagination of the mystical domain, offering a myriad of appearances, coincidences, and other highlights of an unstable configuration (joined by 7 and 13). Thus, even as it presents a shaky point for relationship, it also can provide the extra tension to make a group interaction more unique.
A weekend of three (with excellent family cameos) proves to be as spectacular as expected. I get to see the birthplaces of and spend time with the families of two of my favorite people in the world. I get three awesome sets of phish. And the first appearance of a group dynamic destined for greatness, a group long anticipated, and finally logistically feasible. Having had my full share of the tenuousness of three, I am inclined to mistrust it a little, but when I think about it I realize that it just requires you to understand better, and adjust continuously, so that the inherent imbalance is permeated to reveal a valuable relation. Three lends itself to music as the place where individual ideas are easy to bring forth, but there is enough variation within the group to develop an idea really far. I am excited to see if music can actually make three into a balanced form.
A weekend of three (with excellent family cameos) proves to be as spectacular as expected. I get to see the birthplaces of and spend time with the families of two of my favorite people in the world. I get three awesome sets of phish. And the first appearance of a group dynamic destined for greatness, a group long anticipated, and finally logistically feasible. Having had my full share of the tenuousness of three, I am inclined to mistrust it a little, but when I think about it I realize that it just requires you to understand better, and adjust continuously, so that the inherent imbalance is permeated to reveal a valuable relation. Three lends itself to music as the place where individual ideas are easy to bring forth, but there is enough variation within the group to develop an idea really far. I am excited to see if music can actually make three into a balanced form.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
"...To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head, and with joyfulness, consummated in the midst of children and witnesses: so that an actual leave-taking is possible while he who is leaving is still there, likewise an actual evaluation of what has been desired and what achieved in life, an adding up of life [...]"
"From love of life one ought to desire to die [...] freely, consciously, not suddenly overtaken..."
- Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols
In youth, death is merely a fantasy, a conceptual construct that we are acutely aware of, but which nonetheless lacks reality. But when old age sets in, death becomes an everyday occurrence, perhaps no less scary, but much more apparent and vivid. being young, i can reason from a distance about what i want my own death to be like, but, of course, i do not have the capacity to empathize with someone facing it as a real event, likely to transpire some time in the next few years.
My grandfather makes a good example. He has felt depressed for the last 10 or 12 years, pretty much since we moved to the US. his life previously was not particularly joyful. he'd been unhappily married for forty years, he was forced to retire by a boorish manager from a job he was great at and could have kept doing for many years. he loved reading, spending time with his family. at least he was at home in lvov. then we moved here, and he was thrust into a world he could not understand, could not relate to. the challenge proved too much for him. he lacked confidence in his abilities, so he did not attempt to learn the language or understand much of the culture. he allowed himself to feel useless and his will to live slowly dissipated.
Fortunately or unfortunately his depression has reached a plateau in the last few years. he finds happiness in his daughter and grandson, he likes watching the news (in russian). he used to like reading, but he started losing his vision a few years back, apparently due to a brain tumor. one of his last sources of enjoyment thus disappeared.
with the wisdom of a life nearing completion, my grandfather often wonders what it all was for. he sees the mistakes he made, which made his life much less happy than he should have been (marriage, lack of divorce, etc.) he is not sure if it all was worth it. but more importantly he feels useless now. he feels like a burden and does not, intellectually, see a point in continuing living, but finds no palatable option to change the time and situation of his death. he hopes that he has a peaceful death in his sleep, and does not want to suffer from new sickness.
the instinct to preserve your own life is pretty strong. for a lot of us, probably stronger than even the instinct to reproduce, especially now that sex has been separated from conception. is instinct the source of the cultural constructs that suggest the preservation of life at any cost? is that the reason we as a society scorn euthanasia? we are immersed in a constant drive to live longer, which unfortunately often jumps ahead of the drive to live better. And thus we find ourselves at a time when millions of elderly people, often not able to support or take care of themselves, live for 20 or 30 years past retirement. How many of them would say they are living great, fulfilling lives? how many benefit from their contribution to the functioning and advancement of society? how many are capable of doing so. some great exceptions are obviously out there. john glenn going into space. g.h.w.bush jumping out of a plane on his 80th birthday. rummy running the DOD in his twilight years. Reagan "defeating communism" in his. do you see more of these people or the listless ones? or are these exceptions to the general trend?
i can't help but agree with nietzsche. controlling the method, circumstance, and timing of your death (barring other unforeseen circumstances) seems like the appropriate way to go out. i want to devise a system for myself where i can cap a slippery slope, and once i fall below a certain level, both in physical and mental terms, i can move on. obviously it is hard to define quality of life in just those terms, and if you are still enjoying yourself and your drive to life remains, that is what counts the most. in fact, it's hard for me to imagine losing that feeling and drive. but if it happens, and the will does not come back, why try to stretch existence?
i hope to see you all at my funeral. it will be an awesome party. we'll play our greatest hits, take some e, and sail away into cosmic unity on a big prankster bus, our LAT (life aptitude test) scores tatooed on our foreheads, and two coins left to our name to pay the ferryman, whether he take us across the river, or leave us on it forever, chanting "om".
"From love of life one ought to desire to die [...] freely, consciously, not suddenly overtaken..."
- Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols
In youth, death is merely a fantasy, a conceptual construct that we are acutely aware of, but which nonetheless lacks reality. But when old age sets in, death becomes an everyday occurrence, perhaps no less scary, but much more apparent and vivid. being young, i can reason from a distance about what i want my own death to be like, but, of course, i do not have the capacity to empathize with someone facing it as a real event, likely to transpire some time in the next few years.
My grandfather makes a good example. He has felt depressed for the last 10 or 12 years, pretty much since we moved to the US. his life previously was not particularly joyful. he'd been unhappily married for forty years, he was forced to retire by a boorish manager from a job he was great at and could have kept doing for many years. he loved reading, spending time with his family. at least he was at home in lvov. then we moved here, and he was thrust into a world he could not understand, could not relate to. the challenge proved too much for him. he lacked confidence in his abilities, so he did not attempt to learn the language or understand much of the culture. he allowed himself to feel useless and his will to live slowly dissipated.
Fortunately or unfortunately his depression has reached a plateau in the last few years. he finds happiness in his daughter and grandson, he likes watching the news (in russian). he used to like reading, but he started losing his vision a few years back, apparently due to a brain tumor. one of his last sources of enjoyment thus disappeared.
with the wisdom of a life nearing completion, my grandfather often wonders what it all was for. he sees the mistakes he made, which made his life much less happy than he should have been (marriage, lack of divorce, etc.) he is not sure if it all was worth it. but more importantly he feels useless now. he feels like a burden and does not, intellectually, see a point in continuing living, but finds no palatable option to change the time and situation of his death. he hopes that he has a peaceful death in his sleep, and does not want to suffer from new sickness.
the instinct to preserve your own life is pretty strong. for a lot of us, probably stronger than even the instinct to reproduce, especially now that sex has been separated from conception. is instinct the source of the cultural constructs that suggest the preservation of life at any cost? is that the reason we as a society scorn euthanasia? we are immersed in a constant drive to live longer, which unfortunately often jumps ahead of the drive to live better. And thus we find ourselves at a time when millions of elderly people, often not able to support or take care of themselves, live for 20 or 30 years past retirement. How many of them would say they are living great, fulfilling lives? how many benefit from their contribution to the functioning and advancement of society? how many are capable of doing so. some great exceptions are obviously out there. john glenn going into space. g.h.w.bush jumping out of a plane on his 80th birthday. rummy running the DOD in his twilight years. Reagan "defeating communism" in his. do you see more of these people or the listless ones? or are these exceptions to the general trend?
i can't help but agree with nietzsche. controlling the method, circumstance, and timing of your death (barring other unforeseen circumstances) seems like the appropriate way to go out. i want to devise a system for myself where i can cap a slippery slope, and once i fall below a certain level, both in physical and mental terms, i can move on. obviously it is hard to define quality of life in just those terms, and if you are still enjoying yourself and your drive to life remains, that is what counts the most. in fact, it's hard for me to imagine losing that feeling and drive. but if it happens, and the will does not come back, why try to stretch existence?
i hope to see you all at my funeral. it will be an awesome party. we'll play our greatest hits, take some e, and sail away into cosmic unity on a big prankster bus, our LAT (life aptitude test) scores tatooed on our foreheads, and two coins left to our name to pay the ferryman, whether he take us across the river, or leave us on it forever, chanting "om".
Sunday, June 13, 2004
There is one thing to be said for the Hong Kong - it does not discriminate. Kicks you out one night, and welcomes you back the next, like the matron whore of a crackhouse, with open arms and no questions, as long as your money is green and plentiful (i only have a loose conception of what a crackhouse is actually like). the level of kitchiness in this spring break outpost apparently was not previously sufficient, so now the new waitress uniforms expose the entire area from the bottom of the boobs to the top of the hips. the patrons huddle around scorpion bowls, seeking group happiness in the intoxication of "1..2..3..drink!", the stereo expounds the virtues of getting your freak on, the golden tee is plentiful (even for the cheaters, you know who i'm talkin about), and you are guaranteed at least one group rendition of "livin on a prayer", always dubbed the best he's ever seen by the DJ.
the highlight of the evening was when my girlfriend for the night came back from dancing with another boy and "whispered" over the blaring speakers - "he has a hard-on", which was followed by a good 10 minutes of 2nd grade pointing and giggling (yes, i do giggle).
"alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life's problems"
the highlight of the evening was when my girlfriend for the night came back from dancing with another boy and "whispered" over the blaring speakers - "he has a hard-on", which was followed by a good 10 minutes of 2nd grade pointing and giggling (yes, i do giggle).
"alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life's problems"
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
I came across this article - an interesting defense of socialism tinged with a bit more pragmatism. Socialism and Education . Education has always seemed like the area that calls for the most socialist, egalitarian methods. It seems like it really should be the second largest priority after defense, for all levels of government, but it just isn't. that's a shame.
the weekend brought another interesting experience. a friend of mine has a 100-gallon salt-water fish tank, which is better than any TV i had ever seen. on sunday he went out and bought a giant sea aenemie (SP?) because he read about the symbiotic relationship it had with clown fish (and he owned one named Nemo). the aenemie, despite being a glorified plant, proved to be awesome, as it acclimated to its new surroundings. it managed to change it's orientation 180 degrees, from facing downward to facing upward by continually inflating different parts of itself and using its "tentacles" to propel itself around the corners of the rock.
the really interesting part came, however, when, about 30 minutes from the new guest's arrival, Nemo discovered the aenemie. bear in mind he had never seen one in the course of his brief fish tank existence. as the other fish watched, green with envy (though that might have been the floating algae), nemo nuzzled medina (i didn't name her), helped her right herself, convinced her to open up fully and let the cilia flutter freely in the breeze of the artificial currents, and made a nest in her (admittedly vaginal) center. with almost no capacity to learn and no prior experience, his firmware dictated a behavior, which made for a great nature show. and medina, while being generally hostile, allowed him in without zapping cause she "knew" him too.
as cool as our own learning mechanism is, there is a lot to be said for this kind of innate recognition and understanding. reason is a great tool to let us adapt to new situations, and obviously doing that in an evolutionary, generational way is substantially slower, but isn't it a joyous occasion when your instinct brings you a beautiful connection or a useful experience, and the mind does not have to explicitly interfere.
the most awesome is probably internalizing reasoned knowledge into an instinctual understanding, where a new skill becomes so second nature that it flows out of you as you observe. determining how to optimize and speed up this process would probably be the most valuable discovery for me ever. until then though, it's practice practice practice.
the really interesting part came, however, when, about 30 minutes from the new guest's arrival, Nemo discovered the aenemie. bear in mind he had never seen one in the course of his brief fish tank existence. as the other fish watched, green with envy (though that might have been the floating algae), nemo nuzzled medina (i didn't name her), helped her right herself, convinced her to open up fully and let the cilia flutter freely in the breeze of the artificial currents, and made a nest in her (admittedly vaginal) center. with almost no capacity to learn and no prior experience, his firmware dictated a behavior, which made for a great nature show. and medina, while being generally hostile, allowed him in without zapping cause she "knew" him too.
as cool as our own learning mechanism is, there is a lot to be said for this kind of innate recognition and understanding. reason is a great tool to let us adapt to new situations, and obviously doing that in an evolutionary, generational way is substantially slower, but isn't it a joyous occasion when your instinct brings you a beautiful connection or a useful experience, and the mind does not have to explicitly interfere.
the most awesome is probably internalizing reasoned knowledge into an instinctual understanding, where a new skill becomes so second nature that it flows out of you as you observe. determining how to optimize and speed up this process would probably be the most valuable discovery for me ever. until then though, it's practice practice practice.
Monday, June 07, 2004
a conversation with a developer in my group.
d: i finished the code. here, look at it run
i: that's great! wait, why are you using the wrong button?
d: oh i told you before that the button that was specified didn't work.
i: you told me you hadn't figured out how to get it working yet, and i told you it needed to work. (note: it is pretty clear that there exists a way to make it work)
d: oh, but i talked to ____, and they said we could use the other button.
i: ____ is wrong. using another button doesn't really make sense.
d: oh.
is it any wonder george bush declares the war done only to have hundreds more american soldiers get killed subsequently? everyone is same.
d: i finished the code. here, look at it run
i: that's great! wait, why are you using the wrong button?
d: oh i told you before that the button that was specified didn't work.
i: you told me you hadn't figured out how to get it working yet, and i told you it needed to work. (note: it is pretty clear that there exists a way to make it work)
d: oh, but i talked to ____, and they said we could use the other button.
i: ____ is wrong. using another button doesn't really make sense.
d: oh.
is it any wonder george bush declares the war done only to have hundreds more american soldiers get killed subsequently? everyone is same.
I spent about an hour this Saturday night arguing about welfare reform with a very informed, though bleeding-heart liberal girl named Jess, who spent a few years analyzing that very subject at a policy think tank. I channeled Ahren in order to make the argument a little more interesting, and to make Jess expose the true basis of her positions. An hour later our friends made us switch seats at dinner in order to interrupt the argument, which had at this point devolved to a "moral dilemma", which naturally involves raised voices, etc.
the details of the argument are not tremendously important - it centered on one particular stipulation of welfare reform that my new friend disagreed with - setting a limit on how long someone can remain on welfare. the crux of her argument was welfare of the children, and that we as a society are "morally obligated" to do what is best for the children, and, consequently, for the parent, yet we also, as a society, or government, or whatever, can in no way restrict someone "moral right" to create said children.
what i realized is that both the left and the right suffer from the same major issue, preventing me from identifying with their core, and are not making an effort to appeal to me and my kind. they defer to moral authority as the ultimate arbiter, and as the underpinning of their position. that is stupid because if you are not willing to question or justify your morals, then you simply come to an impasse in attempting to convince someone of your point. plus most of their morals are sort of stupid.
all they need to do is say this. the goal of society is to provide a relatively stable, secure environment for individuals to pursue their own goals, in as open a way as possible, for them, their kids, etc. then different sides can argue how to best accomplish this goal - devoting more or less resources to particular programs, providing certain social services and not others, etc. i think this is still the core idea behind the founding of this country, and it is basically a good one. it is a macroscopic version of the same problem which each of us experiences as a consequence of living - balancing out short-term goals with long ones, figuring out how to earn a living, and how to distribute the resources that our work gets us. and it does seem like a good number of people are doing exactly this.
so why is deferring to morality as the criteria for governing a problem? because it distracts from approaching government just like other aspects of life - come up with a hypothesis and a method for verification, run the test, determine if the result is what was expected/desired, and keep or remove the policy. this would also make the legislators and their constituents expose their true goals, and thus the policy could be fairly assessed by the public as a whole, not only as to whether it works, but also as to whether people agree that the goal is a worthy one to pursue and that it is in line with the fundamental goal stated above.
i recognize that what i state as the goal for society represents a statement of my own moral conception. obviously when goals are at stake, there is no away around biasing things in your own direction. i would be thrilled to hear a cogent argument against using these goals as a baseline though. take your best shot, idol worshippers.
-Friedrich
p.s. until this weekend i also forgot how fun it is to argue with individuals who claim that people do things for reasons other than self-interest. it's just not possible to lose when your interpretation of reality is so much more lucid than theirs.
the details of the argument are not tremendously important - it centered on one particular stipulation of welfare reform that my new friend disagreed with - setting a limit on how long someone can remain on welfare. the crux of her argument was welfare of the children, and that we as a society are "morally obligated" to do what is best for the children, and, consequently, for the parent, yet we also, as a society, or government, or whatever, can in no way restrict someone "moral right" to create said children.
what i realized is that both the left and the right suffer from the same major issue, preventing me from identifying with their core, and are not making an effort to appeal to me and my kind. they defer to moral authority as the ultimate arbiter, and as the underpinning of their position. that is stupid because if you are not willing to question or justify your morals, then you simply come to an impasse in attempting to convince someone of your point. plus most of their morals are sort of stupid.
all they need to do is say this. the goal of society is to provide a relatively stable, secure environment for individuals to pursue their own goals, in as open a way as possible, for them, their kids, etc. then different sides can argue how to best accomplish this goal - devoting more or less resources to particular programs, providing certain social services and not others, etc. i think this is still the core idea behind the founding of this country, and it is basically a good one. it is a macroscopic version of the same problem which each of us experiences as a consequence of living - balancing out short-term goals with long ones, figuring out how to earn a living, and how to distribute the resources that our work gets us. and it does seem like a good number of people are doing exactly this.
so why is deferring to morality as the criteria for governing a problem? because it distracts from approaching government just like other aspects of life - come up with a hypothesis and a method for verification, run the test, determine if the result is what was expected/desired, and keep or remove the policy. this would also make the legislators and their constituents expose their true goals, and thus the policy could be fairly assessed by the public as a whole, not only as to whether it works, but also as to whether people agree that the goal is a worthy one to pursue and that it is in line with the fundamental goal stated above.
i recognize that what i state as the goal for society represents a statement of my own moral conception. obviously when goals are at stake, there is no away around biasing things in your own direction. i would be thrilled to hear a cogent argument against using these goals as a baseline though. take your best shot, idol worshippers.
-Friedrich
p.s. until this weekend i also forgot how fun it is to argue with individuals who claim that people do things for reasons other than self-interest. it's just not possible to lose when your interpretation of reality is so much more lucid than theirs.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
I think i am starting to love Google's GMail. As if 1 gig of space wasn't enough, the targeted content has a ton of potential. here's a "related site" i got next to an email from Ahren: The Curmudgeon's Disturbing Links. A whole new automated source of hillarity ensues.
Friday, May 21, 2004
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Monday, May 17, 2004
I decided to start the summer off right this year, so I headed north on Saturday to try and get some hiking in (thank god for Ahren's inspiration). After a web search, I arbitrarily picked Mount Morgan, a 2200 ft. whale of a mountain (like a teeny tiny whale), located in the Lakes region, about 2 hrs from Boston. 2.2 miles each way, with a Mt. Percival loop option. due to errands and a much needed haircut, i set out around 12:30, got through most of the weekend slacker traffic, and finally hit the New Hampshire border, where the mass. shittiness ends, and the pretty green forests begin.
The drive was awesome. my new car (still new cause she's got no name) is a joy to take anywhere, with the air conditioning, and the cruise control, and the radar detection, and the cd playing capabilities. trey's new CD is awesome - orchestral guyute is excellent, and the other songs are solid too.
the emerald landscape managed to erase all my remaining memories of the frigid winter, and resurrect my belief that new england is just a beautiful place to live. the drive was largely uneventful (aside from the bag of beef jerky i managed to consume). When nearing my destination, I stopped by a tourist info office to find out if there are other good trails, and where would be a decent place to camp. It is amazing how those places are always staffed by happy old ladies, who don't really know how to help you, but make you all warm inside with the knowledge that yes, your grandmother could also be this nice and happy (but she's not). she did tell me though that the hike i was about to do featured a view that is on the yearly "come visit new hampshire" magazine, so that was cool.
mt. morgan greeted me with a myriad of mosquito varieties, all just itching to get some of my sweet sweet blood. and get it they did. i quickly changed into my brand new hiking boots, covered my skin with 80% deet, and sprinted up the mountain to get away from my new friends. the heat and humidity conspired to remove first the last ounce of shame i possessed and then my shirt. time and distance melted away after about 20 minutes, so that i had no idea how long i'd been going, how much longer i had to go, or whether i was still the same person. i did discover a fellow hiker headed in the same direction as me. i started out slightly ahead of this middle-aged born again christian (my imagination started getting the best of me at this point), but every time i stopped to have a drink of water or rest, he would pass me. winning the race became an obsession for me.
the trail kept getting steeper and steeper, and the day hotter and hotter. thankfully the bloodsuckers stayed at the bottom by the lakes. the new boots initiated a conflict with my feet, which the socks simply were in no position to mediate. my clothing drenched, i was determined to beat my opponent to the top. i passed a dense spider cocoon containing thousands of flies and mosquitoes. i felt a sense of gratitude for all the hard-working spiders that kept the forest clean for me.
finally neck-in-neck, we reached the trail split. to the right, an easy .2 mile ascent. to the left, a .2 mile cliff climb. it was too hard to pass up. i gave up the easy victory for a fun challenge. scaling the cliff, squeezing through a tiny cave, to emerge on the other side to the best view i've seen all year. dozens of little lakes, dotted with islands, little houses, and boat trails. a panorama extending to all sides. i took it all in. took a picture or two. as i breathed the thin mountain air (yeah right) and looked down upon the world, my fucking cell phone started ringing. my grandfather frantically trying to reach me to understand what appointment he had in 3 weeks, clearly a very urgent matter.
the spell broken, i completed the ascent to find my foe snacking on the spoils of his victory, and greeted him with a cheerful hello. apparently we were not the only ones to reach the top, as my miniscule friends promptly set up orbits around me, and proceeded to fly into my ears, nose, mouth and shorts. my meditation was cut short by my inability to concentrate on just one bug, so i proceeded to Mt. Percival. It turned out to be no Morgan, but still a reasonable peak. It was all downhill from here.
the descent was great. the tiredness melted away as i converted all my earned potential energy. i alternated between a walk and a gallop down the steeper parts, which is one of the funnest forms of physical activity i've ever done (i clearly need to try mountain biking). it's just amazing how you can be moving way too fast for you brain to process the changing surroundings, and yet you feel your body adjust and your feet find the right places to step, avoiding all obstacles, and propelling you inexorably forward.
as i was completing the hike, it started to rain. suddenly everything smelled so great and fresh. the trees absorbed most of the rainfall, with only a few drops reaching me. the sound would tense and relax, as the rain tried to figure out how serious it was. apparently not very, cause it stopped before i even reached my car.
in the end 5 mile loop took a total of about 2.5 hours. the thunderstorm gathered, and i skipped camping in favor of my comfortable bed. driving through the thunderstorm was great. i stopped to get liquor in a rest area, at which point my radar detector told me, for the first time ever, that a train was approaching, which i could only assume was my cue to get my ass home.
new hampshire rules. who wants to go next weekend?
The drive was awesome. my new car (still new cause she's got no name) is a joy to take anywhere, with the air conditioning, and the cruise control, and the radar detection, and the cd playing capabilities. trey's new CD is awesome - orchestral guyute is excellent, and the other songs are solid too.
the emerald landscape managed to erase all my remaining memories of the frigid winter, and resurrect my belief that new england is just a beautiful place to live. the drive was largely uneventful (aside from the bag of beef jerky i managed to consume). When nearing my destination, I stopped by a tourist info office to find out if there are other good trails, and where would be a decent place to camp. It is amazing how those places are always staffed by happy old ladies, who don't really know how to help you, but make you all warm inside with the knowledge that yes, your grandmother could also be this nice and happy (but she's not). she did tell me though that the hike i was about to do featured a view that is on the yearly "come visit new hampshire" magazine, so that was cool.
mt. morgan greeted me with a myriad of mosquito varieties, all just itching to get some of my sweet sweet blood. and get it they did. i quickly changed into my brand new hiking boots, covered my skin with 80% deet, and sprinted up the mountain to get away from my new friends. the heat and humidity conspired to remove first the last ounce of shame i possessed and then my shirt. time and distance melted away after about 20 minutes, so that i had no idea how long i'd been going, how much longer i had to go, or whether i was still the same person. i did discover a fellow hiker headed in the same direction as me. i started out slightly ahead of this middle-aged born again christian (my imagination started getting the best of me at this point), but every time i stopped to have a drink of water or rest, he would pass me. winning the race became an obsession for me.
the trail kept getting steeper and steeper, and the day hotter and hotter. thankfully the bloodsuckers stayed at the bottom by the lakes. the new boots initiated a conflict with my feet, which the socks simply were in no position to mediate. my clothing drenched, i was determined to beat my opponent to the top. i passed a dense spider cocoon containing thousands of flies and mosquitoes. i felt a sense of gratitude for all the hard-working spiders that kept the forest clean for me.
finally neck-in-neck, we reached the trail split. to the right, an easy .2 mile ascent. to the left, a .2 mile cliff climb. it was too hard to pass up. i gave up the easy victory for a fun challenge. scaling the cliff, squeezing through a tiny cave, to emerge on the other side to the best view i've seen all year. dozens of little lakes, dotted with islands, little houses, and boat trails. a panorama extending to all sides. i took it all in. took a picture or two. as i breathed the thin mountain air (yeah right) and looked down upon the world, my fucking cell phone started ringing. my grandfather frantically trying to reach me to understand what appointment he had in 3 weeks, clearly a very urgent matter.
the spell broken, i completed the ascent to find my foe snacking on the spoils of his victory, and greeted him with a cheerful hello. apparently we were not the only ones to reach the top, as my miniscule friends promptly set up orbits around me, and proceeded to fly into my ears, nose, mouth and shorts. my meditation was cut short by my inability to concentrate on just one bug, so i proceeded to Mt. Percival. It turned out to be no Morgan, but still a reasonable peak. It was all downhill from here.
the descent was great. the tiredness melted away as i converted all my earned potential energy. i alternated between a walk and a gallop down the steeper parts, which is one of the funnest forms of physical activity i've ever done (i clearly need to try mountain biking). it's just amazing how you can be moving way too fast for you brain to process the changing surroundings, and yet you feel your body adjust and your feet find the right places to step, avoiding all obstacles, and propelling you inexorably forward.
as i was completing the hike, it started to rain. suddenly everything smelled so great and fresh. the trees absorbed most of the rainfall, with only a few drops reaching me. the sound would tense and relax, as the rain tried to figure out how serious it was. apparently not very, cause it stopped before i even reached my car.
in the end 5 mile loop took a total of about 2.5 hours. the thunderstorm gathered, and i skipped camping in favor of my comfortable bed. driving through the thunderstorm was great. i stopped to get liquor in a rest area, at which point my radar detector told me, for the first time ever, that a train was approaching, which i could only assume was my cue to get my ass home.
new hampshire rules. who wants to go next weekend?
Courtesy of Aram: www.godhatesamerica.com. Today's headline: "The American Army is a Fag Army!" Be sure to check out the songs.
Thursday, May 13, 2004
shame. getting kicked out of the hong kong on a wednesday night. how might you ask can such a thing happen? imagine yourself as a somewhat inebriated, somewhat naturally stupid person, let's call him ilya. a large man comes through the crowd and unnecessarily pushes ilya on the way. not one to be slighted, ilya gives him a nudge in the back to send him on his way. large man does not appreciate the nudge. large man also turns out to be a bouncer. ilya is asked to leave and is escorted out to the tune of the bouncer's whining about an elbow in the back. hillarity ensues.
god i am dumb sometimes.
god i am dumb sometimes.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
i read a cool book - Nietzche's Genealogy of Morals. It's a collection of three essays addressing the conflict between "master" and "slave" moralities - setting up the conflict, showing how christianity and other creeds fall in the slave camp, proposing where guilt came from, discussing the role of the priests (a.k.a. the elsworth tooheys of the world), and finally lumping together science in its metaphysical reliance on the existence of truth with religion and god. the crux of the discussion is how slave morality has to deny the present in order to make people feel better and to, in turn, subjugate the masters.
One of the interesting points that came out of the book for me was the concept that the individuals that define their own morality are the ones better off than the those who attempt to follow the morals of others. even if that morality is the denial all that is "good", if you are the one implementing it, and forcing it on people to your own advantage, you are better off than the guy who accepts something as "good" because everyone else does.
obviously this is nothing new (although it is cool that Nietzsche came up with this stuff when he did), and as liberated, acid-tested, free-thinking individuals we are all busily creating our own codes for making decisions, interacting with other people, and, generally, living. So, at the risk of exposing the meagerness of my blog reader population, what are your morals and guiding principles? and to make it more interesting, where do you think they come from (family, society, your own brilliance, etc.)? i'm gonna think about mine too and save them for the next entry.
what's the point? well, i think this is an important step on the path to founding a religion. and a conversation that would be fun to have stoned and in person, if all you fuckers didn't live so far away. and it's a new opportunity for ahren to make bad jokes, which distracts him from all the hot vegas grannies.
p.s. the spell checker suggestion for "ahren" is "harem".
One of the interesting points that came out of the book for me was the concept that the individuals that define their own morality are the ones better off than the those who attempt to follow the morals of others. even if that morality is the denial all that is "good", if you are the one implementing it, and forcing it on people to your own advantage, you are better off than the guy who accepts something as "good" because everyone else does.
obviously this is nothing new (although it is cool that Nietzsche came up with this stuff when he did), and as liberated, acid-tested, free-thinking individuals we are all busily creating our own codes for making decisions, interacting with other people, and, generally, living. So, at the risk of exposing the meagerness of my blog reader population, what are your morals and guiding principles? and to make it more interesting, where do you think they come from (family, society, your own brilliance, etc.)? i'm gonna think about mine too and save them for the next entry.
what's the point? well, i think this is an important step on the path to founding a religion. and a conversation that would be fun to have stoned and in person, if all you fuckers didn't live so far away. and it's a new opportunity for ahren to make bad jokes, which distracts him from all the hot vegas grannies.
p.s. the spell checker suggestion for "ahren" is "harem".
i was in austin yesterday, and saw the worst accident ever. it is the kind of stuff that theoretically only happens in movies. as we pulled up to our hotel, we saw a car crashed into a wall, with the whole top missing, and a truck about 20 feet away with remnants of said car fused underneath it. it seems unlikely that anyone survived. it is really sad, but what is most amazing is that the setting was just a small, mall-like drive through a strip of hotels. the fact that someone was able to reach the speed necessary to completely shear off the top of the car as they slammed into a truck, and that the driver did not see the truck in this completely open area is remarkable. i know it's not nice to speak ill of the dead (that must be a religious thing of some sort, right?), but if someone can invent a plausible explanation in which the accident was not the driver's fault, i'd love to hear it.
I think JAW described the new orleans trip as articulately as was possible. all i would add is "i am an addict", high school prom, "i am in hell", "hey didn't you guys snort yours?", and the newly coined universal symbol for e. and some more family guy. not to mention my sole working ear (though that's a bit more of a "on the way home" experience). now i hang my head in shame as i have to explain to everyone that no, i did not see any boobs. my other shame is that i am in love with ms. teen connecticut. se la vi, and so on.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
My 84-year old grandmother and i no longer speak the same language. i guess we always had a bit of trouble - her russian laced with romanian endings and yiddish laments, my russian filthy with americanisms and 19th century dostoyevsky prose. for a while now there has also been her "what will the neighbors think" bourgeois approach to life contrasted with my randian ranting. but within the last few years, especially after having surgery, she has given up on coherence altogether, and that makes communication quite tough. we had a conversation today about a program that my mom and i want to enroll my grandparents in. basically it would replace the current nursing agency that works for them, with a different, hands-off agency, where basically my mom and i would be in charge of all the helpers rather than a random russian nurse looking to make an extra buck off the government. but the subject is not even important. the conversation felt like we weren't talking to each other. i would make a point, and then she would sigh and start talking about how her life is so hard, or how she knows this woman (whose life is also very hard), and "they" made her life terrible. i would gently attempt to nudge the conversation back to the subject, only to be rebuffed with a "you are an atheist just like your grandfather", and other similar inanities. so i, consciously and with full understanding of the violation of my own principles that it entailed, fell back on good old jewish guilt to accomplish my purpose. i guess receptivity to guilt survives much longer than rational thought, because i succeeded (not entirely as my grandmother just thinks she is going to trick me, but i will best her in the end).
ahh to die with a clear mind. what dreams.
ahh to die with a clear mind. what dreams.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
I had the hippiest evening yesterday. First I went to a meditation session at the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center. It was my second time, and it was better than the first. We did two types of meditation - sitting and walking. when you sit, you are supposed to just focus on your breathing, and be aware of it (the teacher suggested either in your stomach or at the tips of your nostrils, which made me realize that my nostrils are the only non-ticklish part of my body). when other thoughts or perceptions come into your mind, you are supposed to acknowledge them and then bring focus back to your breathing. in the walking portion, you just walk around the room and focus on the sensations your feet experience through touching the floor as you walk. both meditations are concluded with the ringing of a bell, which you focus on for a minute until the sound subsides.
The sitting was pretty good. I had a really hard time concentrating on the breath, and with my eyes closed felt sort of uncomfortable and a little claustrophobic. Also, I immediately became aware of the lack of food in my stomach and that sensation definitely dominated the influx of ever-present air into my lungs. However, once the instructor stopped talking, it became easier to concentrate. I got into this relaxed state where thoughts would just kind of come at me, and some of them i would let go of, and others i would grab onto and pursue, cause they were sufficiently interesting. I definitely understand the value of learning to concentrate during meditation, and i think if i can get to a point of doing it more frequently, it would be worthwhile to really focus and reject other thoughts. but the reality is that right now this is one of the few hours in my life where i actually do not have an influx of information to cloud my thinking, so i felt like taking advantage of it to clarify my position in the world in that particular instance. and having my eyes open allowed me to feel more at peace and more concentrated. it also let me see aram's "concentrated" face, which was worthwhile in itself.
The walking was great. After last time, I figured out that i hate walking behind other people and having my pace be constrained (even if i would keep the same pace of my own volition). I think that is pretty telling, but anyway this time i walked around and just focused on not only the sensations in my feet, but all through my legs and the rest of my body, as i would take each step. the muscles tightening and loosening and the balance is shifted from one leg to another. the cracks of joints in the toes. it was so fun. walking is an awesome activity. (i guess running would probably be also if i wasn't such a wuss).
We then had another session of sitting. This time the instructor talked less, and i got to hear the beating of the rain on the roof - the practice takes place in a spacious attic floor of a 3-story building - which responds to the rain really well, especially the little skylight.
The best part of the meditation was definitely the bell. From one hit it would ring for almost two minutes. Somehow there were two beat frequencies, one fast one that would dissipate pretty quickly, and another that would just go on forever, until i was pretty convinced that it was only resonating in my ears and my brain and not anywhere else in the room. the bell definitely brought the most intense focus of the hour for me, probably because it was so interesting and changing over time.
overall the experience was really relaxing and fortifying, so i must have done something right. it also became clear to me that i need to come up with my own routine, something of a mental cleansing, for starting and finishing each day.
then we went rock climbing at the MIT climbing wall in Walker (who knew we had one?). That was fun too, although it still boggles my mind how people are able to hang on to those tiny holds and contort themselves in those ridiculous positions. Aram has the perfect build for climbing, since he can fold himself like a swiss army knife, and has arms that can reach pretty much anything. however, we both failed to complete most of the "problems" that we tried, and inevitably had to add one or two holds to restore our sanity.
doing any activities with aram brings the peacenik liberal factor up a couple of orders of magnitude. next time i'll have to egg him on with targeted assassinations, genocide, and imperialism - i bet it'll improve his climbing.
The sitting was pretty good. I had a really hard time concentrating on the breath, and with my eyes closed felt sort of uncomfortable and a little claustrophobic. Also, I immediately became aware of the lack of food in my stomach and that sensation definitely dominated the influx of ever-present air into my lungs. However, once the instructor stopped talking, it became easier to concentrate. I got into this relaxed state where thoughts would just kind of come at me, and some of them i would let go of, and others i would grab onto and pursue, cause they were sufficiently interesting. I definitely understand the value of learning to concentrate during meditation, and i think if i can get to a point of doing it more frequently, it would be worthwhile to really focus and reject other thoughts. but the reality is that right now this is one of the few hours in my life where i actually do not have an influx of information to cloud my thinking, so i felt like taking advantage of it to clarify my position in the world in that particular instance. and having my eyes open allowed me to feel more at peace and more concentrated. it also let me see aram's "concentrated" face, which was worthwhile in itself.
The walking was great. After last time, I figured out that i hate walking behind other people and having my pace be constrained (even if i would keep the same pace of my own volition). I think that is pretty telling, but anyway this time i walked around and just focused on not only the sensations in my feet, but all through my legs and the rest of my body, as i would take each step. the muscles tightening and loosening and the balance is shifted from one leg to another. the cracks of joints in the toes. it was so fun. walking is an awesome activity. (i guess running would probably be also if i wasn't such a wuss).
We then had another session of sitting. This time the instructor talked less, and i got to hear the beating of the rain on the roof - the practice takes place in a spacious attic floor of a 3-story building - which responds to the rain really well, especially the little skylight.
The best part of the meditation was definitely the bell. From one hit it would ring for almost two minutes. Somehow there were two beat frequencies, one fast one that would dissipate pretty quickly, and another that would just go on forever, until i was pretty convinced that it was only resonating in my ears and my brain and not anywhere else in the room. the bell definitely brought the most intense focus of the hour for me, probably because it was so interesting and changing over time.
overall the experience was really relaxing and fortifying, so i must have done something right. it also became clear to me that i need to come up with my own routine, something of a mental cleansing, for starting and finishing each day.
then we went rock climbing at the MIT climbing wall in Walker (who knew we had one?). That was fun too, although it still boggles my mind how people are able to hang on to those tiny holds and contort themselves in those ridiculous positions. Aram has the perfect build for climbing, since he can fold himself like a swiss army knife, and has arms that can reach pretty much anything. however, we both failed to complete most of the "problems" that we tried, and inevitably had to add one or two holds to restore our sanity.
doing any activities with aram brings the peacenik liberal factor up a couple of orders of magnitude. next time i'll have to egg him on with targeted assassinations, genocide, and imperialism - i bet it'll improve his climbing.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Last night I met Sisyphus. he is the most peaceful man i have ever known. every day he rolls a rock up the hill, only to watch it roll back down, only to have to roll it back up again. sure the first few years were tough for him. he felt angry. he tried to disobey his lot. he mocked the gods and mocked himself. he cried at the futility of his task and his eternal existence. and then it started to fade. he rolled the rock up the hill, and on each successive climb he knew the rock more and more. he noticed when little pieces would chip away, and when the weight would change ever so slightly. he felt the grooves of the path sink deeper and deeper into the hard ground. he noticed each pebble that embedded itself in his foot on the ascent. he relished the walk down from the top of the hill, when he could stretch his tired muscles. he loved every creature that came into his sight, and every season that ebbed and flowed around him. the gods had forgotten about him, and word of this wise man started to spread. i was one of the first few who came to seek him out. we spoke on his descent, and i walked beside him as he strained his way to the top. he spoke little, but i absorbed the calmness and resoluteness that emanated from him. on our final walk down he said
"you know, 20 years ago Zeus watched a day of my labor and he felt pity on me. his grievances forgotten, he couldn't bear to see someone consigned to an endless and superficially meaningless task. so he freed me."
"Then why are you still here?" I cried.
"What Zeus didn't see is that I did not need him to free me. I had been free all along. Now, and always, I live."
"you know, 20 years ago Zeus watched a day of my labor and he felt pity on me. his grievances forgotten, he couldn't bear to see someone consigned to an endless and superficially meaningless task. so he freed me."
"Then why are you still here?" I cried.
"What Zeus didn't see is that I did not need him to free me. I had been free all along. Now, and always, I live."
Monday, April 12, 2004
saturday was one of those great days that makes me happy to live in harvard square. low 60s, sunny. i went and walked around, and sat down in the little area where the artists perform. there was a guy playing a guitar. He just kinda jammed for a while, and played a Neil Young song, and then decided to take a break, so he came over and we talked for like an hour. he was a cool guy, been doing music for a while, though seemed a little lost as to what he wanted to do with his life (so we related well). the conversation flowed, and i learned about his 23-year old girlfriend, heading for med school by the way of a spiritual cleansing through manual labor on a vermont farm, his desire to take random classes to augment his lack of a college education, and his experiences teaching kids. In the course of our talk, a couple of the other street performers came by - an MIT guy Blake, who does a living statue out there, and a guy who does a magic show (with his 10-year old daughter in tow). The magician was particularly funny cause he started talking to me:
"Hey, haven't seen you here before. How are you finding working out here?"
- Uh, fine, I guess
"I was very impressed with your show"
- Umm. You mean sitting here?
Turns out there was a dude that looked vaguely like me doing a set out there before. the funniest part was that the magician completely ignored me for the rest of the conversation, and shot accusatory looks at my new friend, who had to defend his right to talk to me (apparently in violation of the carny code). i did learn that you can bring in $100-200 playing guitar in the square for a day, and the permit is only $40. so now i know i am making a good time and money investment.
oh, i also went to the bookstore and though the puter section had nothing, the music section hit me with a "computer music tutorial" - an 800 page book on everything i ever wanted to know.
the days when everything just goes your way kick ass.
"Hey, haven't seen you here before. How are you finding working out here?"
- Uh, fine, I guess
"I was very impressed with your show"
- Umm. You mean sitting here?
Turns out there was a dude that looked vaguely like me doing a set out there before. the funniest part was that the magician completely ignored me for the rest of the conversation, and shot accusatory looks at my new friend, who had to defend his right to talk to me (apparently in violation of the carny code). i did learn that you can bring in $100-200 playing guitar in the square for a day, and the permit is only $40. so now i know i am making a good time and money investment.
oh, i also went to the bookstore and though the puter section had nothing, the music section hit me with a "computer music tutorial" - an 800 page book on everything i ever wanted to know.
the days when everything just goes your way kick ass.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
So although this is old news, I have to say Israel killing Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, the founder and spritiual leader of Hamas, is one of the cooler things that they've done. The sheer amount of international condemnation was staggering. "Killing an old man in a wheelchair is not likely to benefit Israel", said british foreign secretary Jack Straw (the coolest named politician ever). How the fuck could it not? For most of history the world has been ruled by old men, and just cause they are in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't order the carpet bombing of Dresden or dozens of suicide bombings. Israel gets condemned despite the fact that they take great care to spare civilian life, which can be pretty damn tough when you use tanks and helicopters.
How can anyone argue against killing terrorists? I wonder how things will go when Arafat's turn comes.
How can anyone argue against killing terrorists? I wonder how things will go when Arafat's turn comes.
Monday, April 05, 2004
A weekend with Jordan, all to myself. Are there many better things in the world? Not in my world, that is for sure. A walking tour of boston. a reggae band with a little ghetto-fabulous asian singer (who was actually reasonable) and a dessicated indian bass player, who must always have a vial of acid on him. The shadiest transaction i have ever participated in (including purchasing shwag out of a mexican's sneaker wrapped in pages from a playboy on cozumel and bringing it back onto the cruise ship). a jam at guitar center. An elevated night of clubbing, lounging, walking, and conversation, on and on.
It's cool how some friendships just complete you. How friends can help you recover your center. How your paths in life move in concert, even when separated by oceans and continents. How you learn that really no conversation is taboo.
Everything can change sooner or later, but some moments just stay with you, without effort to remember. i am psyched to be lucky enough to add another one.
Oh, and I figured out what I want to do with my life. That is just a nice byproduct.
It's cool how some friendships just complete you. How friends can help you recover your center. How your paths in life move in concert, even when separated by oceans and continents. How you learn that really no conversation is taboo.
Everything can change sooner or later, but some moments just stay with you, without effort to remember. i am psyched to be lucky enough to add another one.
Oh, and I figured out what I want to do with my life. That is just a nice byproduct.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
i took baby blue (working name) on its first big roadtrip this weekend to montreal, canadia. i was struck by how radical the transition from vermont to quebec is. vermont is beautiful - rolling hills, little cutesy towns in valleys, patches of snow on the ground. but quebec is, well, brown. it is as if the entire province conspired to embody uglier shades of this daring band of the light spectrum, people, land, sky. the snow has melted away, and there are no trees or grass to hide the ravages of winter. and all the land for dozens of flat miles around my colorful mobile habitat has been conscripted for feeding the skinny socialist descendants of the proud galls, those original creators of our freedom fries.
that being said, montreal is really a cool, fun city. the french speakers are not mean, there are a lot of jazz clubs, good climbing gyms, fun places to go dancing, good food. aside from the 8-month winter, it's pretty solid.
lesson learned - even if you are bring something back to the US, which was originally purchased in the US, still gotta declare it. i didn't, and now my passport has a little stamp that says "alleged terrorist, handle with care".
that being said, montreal is really a cool, fun city. the french speakers are not mean, there are a lot of jazz clubs, good climbing gyms, fun places to go dancing, good food. aside from the 8-month winter, it's pretty solid.
lesson learned - even if you are bring something back to the US, which was originally purchased in the US, still gotta declare it. i didn't, and now my passport has a little stamp that says "alleged terrorist, handle with care".
Saturday, March 20, 2004
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. i liked it. i have a hard time offering an objective perspective, i think i felt it too much. revision of the past happens a lot when it comes to relationships that don't work out, and so often that is a barrier on the path out. trying to contextualize the past in the present just makes it seem so unbelievable, and it's already so distant compared to the now. but denying it was ever real hurts infinitely more. unfortunately reality is far more banal than the movie - the mind does its own dirty work.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
we had a company meeting today. the president's erudite presentation included a discussion of using our software to teach "asian-speakers" to converse in english. he also expressed "gratitude in abstentia" to one of the planned presenters who could not attend. but at least the CEO made fun of george bush, so that is something. i didn't think CEOs were allowed to do that since he is one of theirs.
Monday, March 01, 2004
busy weekend behind me, and wow, i actually have stuff to write about.
friday night. went to a party in central square to see jeff and his band Gigawatt - piano, sax, bass, drums, and a beatboxing/rapping fella named Gunther (you can get samples at http://www.bea.st/sound/delpino/index.shtml). it is just awesome to see five people creating a journey through bright, sax-infused peaks, thick, melty grooves, and brooding, evil valleys. jeff is clearly the most evil in the band - he now sports a hat with wisps of blonde hair below, but the eyes don't lie, and neither does the piano. as we got our drink on, bernard became the bridge between the band and the small living-room audience, dancing his ass off, in his contagious, passionate way. i also finally met b's friend watson, who does cool stuff at the media lab (the details of which i would remember if i had been a bit more sober), and also makes electronic music. given my goal of surrounding myself with people who can teach me everything i don't know about music (which is more or less everything), this was a good conversation.
saturday morning. i relearn the fact that cheap college vodka costs you more in the long run. a 4 hour splitting headache does not deter me from rearranging my place of living, and slimming down my repository of stuff - getting rid of things i don't need so i can breathe a little easier. left with only my toothbrush and two pairs of underwear, i compose my overzealous self, and go indoor rock climbing. it is when i attempt physically challenging things that i remember that i have never been good at physical activity, and yet i seem to enjoy banging my head against the wall (literally in the case of climbing). regardless, climbing is a sport with particular appeal because so much of the focus is not only on strength and endurance, but also on balance, both static and dynamic, something not addressed by things like soccer and basketball. and it is just damn fun, even if today i can't move the mouse more than a quarter of an inch without cringing.
saturday afternoon, a beautiful faux spring day, a walk with a friend, sun and happiness, and boston is alive. people smiling everyone shaking off the shackles of the cold, and laughing in defiance of the shit weather that is yet to come. leads into the night, a border cafe dinner in the non-alcoholic section, and the first perfectly executed surprise birthday party i had ever attended (in the prettiest home i have seen owned by people in my age bracket). a good end to a good (and very long day).
sunday morning. an early wakeup (with my head now in line with the sun's rays), and a new adventure. aram, rachel and i set out for wachusett (or wachusetts as aram calls it), which has come to dominate my ski resort associations through 10 years of exposure to their tv jingle (wa, wa, wa-chusett. [...] mountain skiing minutes away). it turns out "minutes" refers to ~70 minutes, so we miss the morning lesson. then aram and i lose our superior snowboarding partner rachel, and proceed to try and teach ourselves on the bunny slope. not knowing the theory proves detrimental, as i tackle an unsuspecting little girl on the bunny lift (something like a moving sidewalk going up the hill). aram and i did feel quite left out without matching pink uni suits, but he compensated with gold skating goggles that made him look like a crazy raver riding his trip into the morning sun.
the lesson proves useful if inefficiently organized. the highlight of the day comes when the lesson attendees mistake aram and me for the instructors. clearly at least we got the look down. rachel finds us (thank god), and takes us on a couple of runs (a green and a blue). the bruises tell their own tale, but despite the arduous crawl down the blue path, we finish happy and excited for the next time (with the season almost over). the runner up moment of the day was when i fell down hard while
the drive home. good conversation and music. a feeling of quiet happiness at a day devoted to personal enjoyment and self-improvement. a couple of good emails, and early to bed. a weekend in the life of ilya.
not being used to weekend where i don't need to work, i just feel happy. it is a good feeling. i am now firmly convinced this year will kick the crap out of 2003. after all, i'm gonna get to meet JAW.
friday night. went to a party in central square to see jeff and his band Gigawatt - piano, sax, bass, drums, and a beatboxing/rapping fella named Gunther (you can get samples at http://www.bea.st/sound/delpino/index.shtml). it is just awesome to see five people creating a journey through bright, sax-infused peaks, thick, melty grooves, and brooding, evil valleys. jeff is clearly the most evil in the band - he now sports a hat with wisps of blonde hair below, but the eyes don't lie, and neither does the piano. as we got our drink on, bernard became the bridge between the band and the small living-room audience, dancing his ass off, in his contagious, passionate way. i also finally met b's friend watson, who does cool stuff at the media lab (the details of which i would remember if i had been a bit more sober), and also makes electronic music. given my goal of surrounding myself with people who can teach me everything i don't know about music (which is more or less everything), this was a good conversation.
saturday morning. i relearn the fact that cheap college vodka costs you more in the long run. a 4 hour splitting headache does not deter me from rearranging my place of living, and slimming down my repository of stuff - getting rid of things i don't need so i can breathe a little easier. left with only my toothbrush and two pairs of underwear, i compose my overzealous self, and go indoor rock climbing. it is when i attempt physically challenging things that i remember that i have never been good at physical activity, and yet i seem to enjoy banging my head against the wall (literally in the case of climbing). regardless, climbing is a sport with particular appeal because so much of the focus is not only on strength and endurance, but also on balance, both static and dynamic, something not addressed by things like soccer and basketball. and it is just damn fun, even if today i can't move the mouse more than a quarter of an inch without cringing.
saturday afternoon, a beautiful faux spring day, a walk with a friend, sun and happiness, and boston is alive. people smiling everyone shaking off the shackles of the cold, and laughing in defiance of the shit weather that is yet to come. leads into the night, a border cafe dinner in the non-alcoholic section, and the first perfectly executed surprise birthday party i had ever attended (in the prettiest home i have seen owned by people in my age bracket). a good end to a good (and very long day).
sunday morning. an early wakeup (with my head now in line with the sun's rays), and a new adventure. aram, rachel and i set out for wachusett (or wachusetts as aram calls it), which has come to dominate my ski resort associations through 10 years of exposure to their tv jingle (wa, wa, wa-chusett. [...] mountain skiing minutes away). it turns out "minutes" refers to ~70 minutes, so we miss the morning lesson. then aram and i lose our superior snowboarding partner rachel, and proceed to try and teach ourselves on the bunny slope. not knowing the theory proves detrimental, as i tackle an unsuspecting little girl on the bunny lift (something like a moving sidewalk going up the hill). aram and i did feel quite left out without matching pink uni suits, but he compensated with gold skating goggles that made him look like a crazy raver riding his trip into the morning sun.
the lesson proves useful if inefficiently organized. the highlight of the day comes when the lesson attendees mistake aram and me for the instructors. clearly at least we got the look down. rachel finds us (thank god), and takes us on a couple of runs (a green and a blue). the bruises tell their own tale, but despite the arduous crawl down the blue path, we finish happy and excited for the next time (with the season almost over). the runner up moment of the day was when i fell down hard while
the drive home. good conversation and music. a feeling of quiet happiness at a day devoted to personal enjoyment and self-improvement. a couple of good emails, and early to bed. a weekend in the life of ilya.
not being used to weekend where i don't need to work, i just feel happy. it is a good feeling. i am now firmly convinced this year will kick the crap out of 2003. after all, i'm gonna get to meet JAW.
Friday, February 13, 2004
There's more! I just got another email from Ms. Conway:
EC: "Ilya, I've been thinking that I would be able to put the bigger peices partly in the front seat. If you still have it I could come get it tonight [or] Monday night... ???"
I: "No, I would rather give it away for free than deal with you."
- or -
I: "Please read my blog"
EC: "Ilya, I've been thinking that I would be able to put the bigger peices partly in the front seat. If you still have it I could come get it tonight [or] Monday night... ???"
I: "No, I would rather give it away for free than deal with you."
- or -
I: "Please read my blog"
I tried to sell my old futon over craigslist. Over the course of the week, I exchanged around 8 or 9 emails with a woman named Eileen Conway. We finally settled on 7:30 pm, Thursday night. We discussed transportation options, and I mentioned she might have to tie the back of her SUV down. I got to Mair's house, the location of said futon, at 7:30, and patiently waited for the woman to arrive.
7:50 - My phone rings
EC: "I am running a little late, I will be there in a few minutes, just wanted to let you know".
I: "Ok, thanks for letting me know. Do you need directions?"
EC: "No, it's just at [address], right?"
I: "Yup, that's right. Apartment [apt#]. You know how to get here then?"
EC: "Yes, I'll be there soon. Will you bring the futon downstairs?"
I: "Well, do you want to see it assembled first, or do you want me to take it apart and bring it down?"
EC: "I guess I want to see what it looks like".
8:25 - My phone rings
EC: "I am lost, I can't find your place. I am on highland st."
I: "I don't know where that is. Do you know where Cambridge st. is?"
EC: "No."
I: [explain where Cambridge st. is]
EC: "Ok, be there soon."
I: "Ok, entrance is on the side of the building near the train tracks. There is also a big liquor store downstairs."
8:45 - My phone rings
EC (sounds very angry): "This has been such a nightmare. I am at the entrance but I don't see a buzzer."
I: "You are on the wrong side"
EC (exasperated sigh): "How tall is this futon frame anyway?"
I (realizing that the futon will not be sold tonight): "I am not sure, but you can come up and see it, since you are right here"
EC (angrier) : "This has been so difficult. There is a group of boys here and I don't feel safe. OK, I will pull the car around."
8:50 - My phone rings
EC: "What apartment is it?"
I: "I'll buzz you in"
8:55 - Eileen enters apartment.
I: (I wonder what she was scared of - she probably ate at least 2 of the aforementioned boys already)
EC (angrier): "This has just been so annoying. "
I: "Ok"
EC: "Ok, looks good, let's bring it down"
I: "Do you want to disassemble it or try to put it in as is?"
EC: "Disassemble"
(About 5 minutes into the disassembly process, as Eileen stands and watches over me taking the futon apart...)
EC: Hmm, I don't think this will fit into my car.
I: "Ok. Can you tie down the back of your car?"
EC: "I was planning to keep it in the car overnight and drive it to New Hampshire tomorrow morning."
I: "Ok do you have measuring tape to see if it will fit?"
EC: "No, let's just finish taking it apart and bring the part down."
9:15: (I take the frame apart as Eileen stands over me and gives me instructions. We bring down the biggest piece of the frame. She puts it into the trunk and it doesn't fit by about 4 inches.)
EC: "I don't think it's going to fit."
I: "It'll fit if we prop it on the side and push down the front seat. The other pieces are not as long."
EC: "No, I don't think this is going to work."
I: "Ok, bye."
Early on I realized Eileen's comprehension of the world and a sense of what is right and wrong was radically different from mine, and so any insults I could levy at her would not make the slightest difference. However, to make myself feel better:
YOU ARE A FAT, STUPID, UGLY CUNT, EILEEN CONWAY. The world owes you nothing - clearly it has already given you too much (especially in the gastronomic department), such that you feel some sense of entitlement. When you are older, fatter, stupider, and uglier, you will look back and wonder why your life turned out as crappily as it did, and I'll know why. Cause you deserved it.
I really am a people person.
7:50 - My phone rings
EC: "I am running a little late, I will be there in a few minutes, just wanted to let you know".
I: "Ok, thanks for letting me know. Do you need directions?"
EC: "No, it's just at [address], right?"
I: "Yup, that's right. Apartment [apt#]. You know how to get here then?"
EC: "Yes, I'll be there soon. Will you bring the futon downstairs?"
I: "Well, do you want to see it assembled first, or do you want me to take it apart and bring it down?"
EC: "I guess I want to see what it looks like".
8:25 - My phone rings
EC: "I am lost, I can't find your place. I am on highland st."
I: "I don't know where that is. Do you know where Cambridge st. is?"
EC: "No."
I: [explain where Cambridge st. is]
EC: "Ok, be there soon."
I: "Ok, entrance is on the side of the building near the train tracks. There is also a big liquor store downstairs."
8:45 - My phone rings
EC (sounds very angry): "This has been such a nightmare. I am at the entrance but I don't see a buzzer."
I: "You are on the wrong side"
EC (exasperated sigh): "How tall is this futon frame anyway?"
I (realizing that the futon will not be sold tonight): "I am not sure, but you can come up and see it, since you are right here"
EC (angrier) : "This has been so difficult. There is a group of boys here and I don't feel safe. OK, I will pull the car around."
8:50 - My phone rings
EC: "What apartment is it?"
I: "I'll buzz you in"
8:55 - Eileen enters apartment.
I: (I wonder what she was scared of - she probably ate at least 2 of the aforementioned boys already)
EC (angrier): "This has just been so annoying. "
I: "Ok"
EC: "Ok, looks good, let's bring it down"
I: "Do you want to disassemble it or try to put it in as is?"
EC: "Disassemble"
(About 5 minutes into the disassembly process, as Eileen stands and watches over me taking the futon apart...)
EC: Hmm, I don't think this will fit into my car.
I: "Ok. Can you tie down the back of your car?"
EC: "I was planning to keep it in the car overnight and drive it to New Hampshire tomorrow morning."
I: "Ok do you have measuring tape to see if it will fit?"
EC: "No, let's just finish taking it apart and bring the part down."
9:15: (I take the frame apart as Eileen stands over me and gives me instructions. We bring down the biggest piece of the frame. She puts it into the trunk and it doesn't fit by about 4 inches.)
EC: "I don't think it's going to fit."
I: "It'll fit if we prop it on the side and push down the front seat. The other pieces are not as long."
EC: "No, I don't think this is going to work."
I: "Ok, bye."
Early on I realized Eileen's comprehension of the world and a sense of what is right and wrong was radically different from mine, and so any insults I could levy at her would not make the slightest difference. However, to make myself feel better:
YOU ARE A FAT, STUPID, UGLY CUNT, EILEEN CONWAY. The world owes you nothing - clearly it has already given you too much (especially in the gastronomic department), such that you feel some sense of entitlement. When you are older, fatter, stupider, and uglier, you will look back and wonder why your life turned out as crappily as it did, and I'll know why. Cause you deserved it.
I really am a people person.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Eddie's dead. Like his namesake, Eddie could not hack it in the big leagues, and did not make it to the summer of Galt's revolution. For those of you who don't know, Eddie was my 200 kilomile, overachieving, underprivilleged gimp of a car. And now I am, once again, free from the burden and the convenience of driving. I hope all my friends rejoice, as I will make sure to impose on all of you equally while my search for a car commences.
A brief telling of Eddie's death. It was my fault. I ignored the light that has told me for the last 2 years that something is wrong with my engine, because the mechanics always said the light was broken. as it turns out oil was leaking out. it also turns out without oil, the engine does not show that it is overheating. it just makes noise. and if it is 2 am, and you are tired and trying to get home, and you ignore the noise, it keeps going until it dies, and the whole engine freezes up. a lesson learned.
i had the car towed in the middle of the night to a mechanic i had used about 6 months previously (who obviously was not around at 2am). the tow truck driver was gracious enough to drive me the extra 5 blocks to my house for a mere $20, so that i could go to sleep and wake up in 3 hours for a client meeting. After calling the alleged mechanic 8 times in the morning, i went to stop by and check on my car. The Arab, non english-speaking gentleman working the gas pump informed me that the mechanic went out of business 4 months ago, and that i had to get the car out. this was surprising to me, given that the signs offering me a $79.99 tuneup were still hanging with no sign of an "out of business sign". while i was waiting for the tow truck to take eddie to a better place (a real mechanic), the gas pump gentleman insisted i pay him $50 for leaving the car there overnight, because his boss said so. Once I established that there was no explosives belt around his waist, I politely informed him that he has the option to tow me according to the law if he feels i am tresspassing, but i will not pay him. after throwing a tantrum he offered me a special $30 rate instead. such a deal. i told him to go fuck himself, got my car towed to a mechanic, and learned that it's time has run out. a sad end, but at least he reached 200K.
Today I had yet another confirmation that progress rules. I (like a dumbass that I am), left my EZpass in the car when I got it towed. So I had to get the thingy replaced. I called 3 different easy pass numbers, which all failed to look me up (failed to even try), and just kept forwarding me on to other people. I spent over a half hour on the phone, while getting to work. When I got to the office, I went online and did it myself in about 5 minutes. Is it a wonder that we seek to automate these things and remove the blatant incompetence from our day to day lives? How do you feel about yourself when a machine can do your job better than you? I guess I will find out in about 20 years when we don't need software developers anymore.
A brief telling of Eddie's death. It was my fault. I ignored the light that has told me for the last 2 years that something is wrong with my engine, because the mechanics always said the light was broken. as it turns out oil was leaking out. it also turns out without oil, the engine does not show that it is overheating. it just makes noise. and if it is 2 am, and you are tired and trying to get home, and you ignore the noise, it keeps going until it dies, and the whole engine freezes up. a lesson learned.
i had the car towed in the middle of the night to a mechanic i had used about 6 months previously (who obviously was not around at 2am). the tow truck driver was gracious enough to drive me the extra 5 blocks to my house for a mere $20, so that i could go to sleep and wake up in 3 hours for a client meeting. After calling the alleged mechanic 8 times in the morning, i went to stop by and check on my car. The Arab, non english-speaking gentleman working the gas pump informed me that the mechanic went out of business 4 months ago, and that i had to get the car out. this was surprising to me, given that the signs offering me a $79.99 tuneup were still hanging with no sign of an "out of business sign". while i was waiting for the tow truck to take eddie to a better place (a real mechanic), the gas pump gentleman insisted i pay him $50 for leaving the car there overnight, because his boss said so. Once I established that there was no explosives belt around his waist, I politely informed him that he has the option to tow me according to the law if he feels i am tresspassing, but i will not pay him. after throwing a tantrum he offered me a special $30 rate instead. such a deal. i told him to go fuck himself, got my car towed to a mechanic, and learned that it's time has run out. a sad end, but at least he reached 200K.
Today I had yet another confirmation that progress rules. I (like a dumbass that I am), left my EZpass in the car when I got it towed. So I had to get the thingy replaced. I called 3 different easy pass numbers, which all failed to look me up (failed to even try), and just kept forwarding me on to other people. I spent over a half hour on the phone, while getting to work. When I got to the office, I went online and did it myself in about 5 minutes. Is it a wonder that we seek to automate these things and remove the blatant incompetence from our day to day lives? How do you feel about yourself when a machine can do your job better than you? I guess I will find out in about 20 years when we don't need software developers anymore.
Monday, January 19, 2004
This weekend I got to dance with the tallest girl ever. She was a full head taller than me, and also taller than every single boy at the bar. Since we were obviously mismatched, she at one point took my hand and twirled me over to her friend. I never been twirled before - it made me feel small and safe. My favorite was when this funny boy aggressively tried to dance with the amazon, but she didn't like him that much so she picked him up with one hand and tied his legs into a knot with the other. he was no longer dancing, but was still quite funny.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Thursday, January 01, 2004
Happy New Year! Such a trivial transition, and yet such a convenient point at which to erase the follies of 2003, and look ahead with hope and sparkly eyes (ok, that's prolly just glitter).
I celebrated the coming of the year of the monkey at Anon Salon in san francisco. After a slow start to the night, as my friends readied themselves for the festivities, we stopped by a party hosted by Nick, where I got to see a bunch of AEPi kids whom I haven't seen in years. It was fun, and rereminded me how weird my fraternity really was. And then, glitter on, we headed out to the party.
Being the space cadet that I am, I had left my ticket to the party in Boston. Thanks to "technology", I had it transferred to will call. Apparently there are a lot of us cadets out there though, cause the line was really long. We got to the place at 11:20, and I got in at 11:55, just in time to count down with my dear friends and toast the coming of the new year. As Sound Tribe Sector Nine took the stage, and the alcohol made its way towards my brain, I started dancing, and kept going all night.
STS9 is really fucking good, especially for this type of party. The surreal masquerade, the other world where music is a benevolent dictator, and everyone gladly forsakes control of their bodies for the exaltation of their minds. It was the kind of experience that I want every time I go dancing to be. People offering their smiles and eyes, tuning into the music and letting everyone enjoy their sight. Little sleaziness to speak of.
We checked out the upstairs room, with a metal band, cabaret girls, and dancers on stills. the downstairs room with a heavy, pulsating beat, and a lot of jumping. and finally the "chill" room with a nice slow rhythm, and lots of kids on e. I got to talk to one a little bit and rub her head, and dance with her. on the whole the people were really sweet and open, and just enjoying themselves. the alcohol stopped at 1:30, but the party kept going till we left at almost 4.
We then headed to a after party at the most beautiful home space I have ever seen. 15,000 sq feet of loft space, DJ's, sails, couches, projected visualizations, and pretty girls. I have rediscovered the ability to dance all night, and was ready to go for another 4 or 5 hours, but my friends were tired. we fell just short of the 6am party, which was supposed to have breakfast too.
oh, and i figured out what kind of band i need to have. Lead guitar, turntable/puter (me), and a keyboard. There was a band like that at anon salon - it was clear they did not really know how to play their instruments, and yet the music they made was really engrossing and fun.
I celebrated the coming of the year of the monkey at Anon Salon in san francisco. After a slow start to the night, as my friends readied themselves for the festivities, we stopped by a party hosted by Nick, where I got to see a bunch of AEPi kids whom I haven't seen in years. It was fun, and rereminded me how weird my fraternity really was. And then, glitter on, we headed out to the party.
Being the space cadet that I am, I had left my ticket to the party in Boston. Thanks to "technology", I had it transferred to will call. Apparently there are a lot of us cadets out there though, cause the line was really long. We got to the place at 11:20, and I got in at 11:55, just in time to count down with my dear friends and toast the coming of the new year. As Sound Tribe Sector Nine took the stage, and the alcohol made its way towards my brain, I started dancing, and kept going all night.
STS9 is really fucking good, especially for this type of party. The surreal masquerade, the other world where music is a benevolent dictator, and everyone gladly forsakes control of their bodies for the exaltation of their minds. It was the kind of experience that I want every time I go dancing to be. People offering their smiles and eyes, tuning into the music and letting everyone enjoy their sight. Little sleaziness to speak of.
We checked out the upstairs room, with a metal band, cabaret girls, and dancers on stills. the downstairs room with a heavy, pulsating beat, and a lot of jumping. and finally the "chill" room with a nice slow rhythm, and lots of kids on e. I got to talk to one a little bit and rub her head, and dance with her. on the whole the people were really sweet and open, and just enjoying themselves. the alcohol stopped at 1:30, but the party kept going till we left at almost 4.
We then headed to a after party at the most beautiful home space I have ever seen. 15,000 sq feet of loft space, DJ's, sails, couches, projected visualizations, and pretty girls. I have rediscovered the ability to dance all night, and was ready to go for another 4 or 5 hours, but my friends were tired. we fell just short of the 6am party, which was supposed to have breakfast too.
oh, and i figured out what kind of band i need to have. Lead guitar, turntable/puter (me), and a keyboard. There was a band like that at anon salon - it was clear they did not really know how to play their instruments, and yet the music they made was really engrossing and fun.
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