Well, that, my friend, is an excellent question. It also has two simple answers, which are as follows:
1) I haven't felt like it.
2) I'm still on The Vacationing!
And with an upcoming trip (starting tomorry) I'll be even less likely to pen a Fjordian masterpiece in the next week or so. However, I will leave you this little link to a great post by a good bloggy-type-guy entitled...
You and what over-extended exhausted and depleted army?
Because that's how you write a great post, and that's also how you title said great blog post.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
L.A.
Everytime I come across something like this it makes me realize how many thoughts I have about my adpoted megalopolis, and how often they're squirming around, trying to assemble themselves into some concrete form. Maybe I'll try and get it together some day. Until then here's the line from that post that got me somewhere close to home...
If Los Angeles had been a woman then, she would have been one of Captain Kirk's glamorous alien paramours. Too sexy for this world, too odd for the everyday. Her eyes would glitter at you until you were caught in an insect moment, dimly wondering if one of you was supposed to be a predator, and thinking that it mightn't be terrible to be eaten. Literally. Like a biscuit.
If Los Angeles had been a woman then, she would have been one of Captain Kirk's glamorous alien paramours. Too sexy for this world, too odd for the everyday. Her eyes would glitter at you until you were caught in an insect moment, dimly wondering if one of you was supposed to be a predator, and thinking that it mightn't be terrible to be eaten. Literally. Like a biscuit.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
So err, yeah...
Here's a few things I'm speculatin' on at the mo...
People are going to say bad things about you, it's inevitable, and your only defense is being convinced of your own goodness.
Someone once explained to me after I remarked something like this, "How come the memories that pop into my head are inevitably bad things, when I've got a thousand more great things I've done that are great memories, could pop into my head?" by answering, "The human mind is still wired like it was a thousand years ago, bad things are more important to remember since they're more important to the survival instinct. If you remember a tribesman was eaten by a snake at this particular bend in the trail, it's more important to your survival than when you cracked the tribe up with a series of funny stories afterwards, that subsequently resulted in you getting laid."
Well anyways, I had one more thing I wanted to quote, but I can't find it...since I've been quite the internet wanderer over the last few days, but it was something I read over at wired or one of its blogs in the last coupla' days, in their comments section. Unfortunately I can't find the post to link to, (and I have frustratingly searched) but it was in context about harboring ideas for money.
The commenter said something like this, "If you know what e=mc2 means, that's a stolen idea. But nobody thinks in terms of that..."[then said summore things] and ended with..."if you think you're going to make money from your idea, by all means, hide it. The world won't miss you, or your idea. It's not about making money, but about what you're adding to the human experience."
(that's a paraphrase...but pretty close)
Anyways, it was the last bit that caught my attention and made me get a small grip on my otherwise stupid doubts and internal or external criticism. It's probly that the world will rarely hear, or talk about, "the human experience." I guess because it either doesn't make much money, or because it's too damn big to talk about. But it doesn't change the fact that within that experience, what you do, make, create, share, experience, and convey, does make a difference.
It would be nice if someone came up with a metric about people who are adding to "the human experience" like the list of the 100 richest people on the planet. I'd sure be interested if any of the top 100 of the latter made the list.
People are going to say bad things about you, it's inevitable, and your only defense is being convinced of your own goodness.
Someone once explained to me after I remarked something like this, "How come the memories that pop into my head are inevitably bad things, when I've got a thousand more great things I've done that are great memories, could pop into my head?" by answering, "The human mind is still wired like it was a thousand years ago, bad things are more important to remember since they're more important to the survival instinct. If you remember a tribesman was eaten by a snake at this particular bend in the trail, it's more important to your survival than when you cracked the tribe up with a series of funny stories afterwards, that subsequently resulted in you getting laid."
Well anyways, I had one more thing I wanted to quote, but I can't find it...since I've been quite the internet wanderer over the last few days, but it was something I read over at wired or one of its blogs in the last coupla' days, in their comments section. Unfortunately I can't find the post to link to, (and I have frustratingly searched) but it was in context about harboring ideas for money.
The commenter said something like this, "If you know what e=mc2 means, that's a stolen idea. But nobody thinks in terms of that..."[then said summore things] and ended with..."if you think you're going to make money from your idea, by all means, hide it. The world won't miss you, or your idea. It's not about making money, but about what you're adding to the human experience."
(that's a paraphrase...but pretty close)
Anyways, it was the last bit that caught my attention and made me get a small grip on my otherwise stupid doubts and internal or external criticism. It's probly that the world will rarely hear, or talk about, "the human experience." I guess because it either doesn't make much money, or because it's too damn big to talk about. But it doesn't change the fact that within that experience, what you do, make, create, share, experience, and convey, does make a difference.
It would be nice if someone came up with a metric about people who are adding to "the human experience" like the list of the 100 richest people on the planet. I'd sure be interested if any of the top 100 of the latter made the list.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Some random loose end stuff
Monday, March 17, 2008
One more thing before I go green
Have you ever spent any time over at Futility Closet? Because you should. And you should start today.
Oh Yeah, and there's that Irish thing today...
It's workin' out pretty good here at the Casa Aloha. The fridge is stocked, unemployment is on the way, the dishes are done, there's some groovy tunes on the radio, and it's 6:49 and light outside. Oh yeah, and I just put some new wallpaper on my computer! I got's to tells ya, there's something really refreshing about changing that background. It's hard to notice how many times you see that in the course of your internetting/computing, but it's pretty much has to be the most viewed picture by you. Would a new one help? I dunno, but if you want your computer background to look just like your pal Tsunami's, you can check out this joint!
If that don't put you in an Irish mood, I don't know what will.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Move Towards the Light!
"I just know I could get my head straight if someone could just do something about these fucking blinking demonic lamp posts!"
It started off with some floodlights over parking lots, and moved to exterior building lights, and finally every lamp post in the city...randomly shutting on and off. At first it was almost funny, people gathered on the sidewalks in little clumps, heads raised, watching twenty feet above them as the streets fell into total darkness, and then were illuminated again.
Of course, the first thing that was not at all funny was driving. Traffic signals were on the fritz too, and nobody drove anywhere at night if they could help it...but people rapidly adjusted to this reality, and began racing to get things done before darkness fell, and the lighting grid went crazy. In fact, most people (as they were asked later) felt as if they were doing some real living, in fact squeezing the most out of every day. But with the human brain being what it is (naturally super-fjucking curious) the lights just kept on grabbing your attention. A few minutes into watching a teevee show, you'd notice a blinking light outside and look over. You knew what you were going to see before you looked, but you couldn't stop yourself from looking.
"What is going on with those lights?" You'd ask yourself, but you'd also know, just as you asked it, that you were never know the answer. Of course they called the Department of Power, and the City Engineers, and Lighting Maintenance, and what the hell ever branch that had anything at all related to lighting, and not one of them could find an actual problem with the damn things. "There was," they said, "No problem to fix. The city's lighting was operating exactly as it had for 90 years."
This of course was not well received.
The phenomenon was slowly driving people mad. The only recourse was to go home, shut your blinds and curtains, and pretend it wasn't happening. Many people did not have the inclination to do this. During the days, people were test, short, and aggressive to the point of violence.
A few weeks later, some nerd at the local University had arranged for a recon satellite to download a months worth of video of the nightly phenomenon. He ran it thru program after program searching for some sort of pattern...and came across a filter, which produced a rather simple and startling discovery. The City's lighting grid was flashing on and off in a huge signal of binary code. On off, one-zero, projected on a screen with scale of miles. After the discovery, it only took a few seconds to decode. It read simply two words repeating over and over. "Help Me."
This, of course, was not the most settling message to receive from the city's lighting grid, especially with no contex whatsoever. Was it the City asking for help, or was it only the lights that needed it? Was it the electrical grid that had somehow become sentient and beaming this message? Who was the fucking message to!
All of those were good questions, but since then nobody came up with any answers, and the damn thing's still doing it. I sure-as-shit know that it's been getting to me, and I've been acting funny. A few of my friends, Gjod bless 'em, have called me on it...and I wasn't afraid to say it.
"I just know I could get my head straight if someone could just do something about these fucking blinking demonic lamp posts!" And that's when it hit me. I'm that someone!
I took to the streets at night, and my car would have scared any cops who might have pulled me over. Slingshot, speargun, pellet rifle, .22 caliber rifle, .22 caliber target pistol, .32 special, crossbow, double barreled shotgun, baseball bat, all within easy reach. I picked different spots, and slowly, methodically began dealing with the maddening lights. The news picked up on it, and gave me the name, "the Lamp Post Vigilante." As soon as I got some press, others joined the cause, and despite the authorities calling for it to stop, within a matter of days, nearly every external light was smashed.
"Help Me?" Yeah, I'll help you City...buy cutting out your tounge.
Things are much better now, and my friends have noticed. "Lookin' good!" they'd say, and I'd reply "Feelin' good!"
Of course I'm of the firm belief that the City has taken a new medium to transmit its message...the water system! Now I spend hours of the day watching my faucets, wondering how it's transmitting. Sometimes when I'm in the shower, it goes from hot to cold, and back to hot again...I'm not sure what it means. I do know that taking down the city's water system will be a lot harder than breaking a few lights.
It started off with some floodlights over parking lots, and moved to exterior building lights, and finally every lamp post in the city...randomly shutting on and off. At first it was almost funny, people gathered on the sidewalks in little clumps, heads raised, watching twenty feet above them as the streets fell into total darkness, and then were illuminated again.
Of course, the first thing that was not at all funny was driving. Traffic signals were on the fritz too, and nobody drove anywhere at night if they could help it...but people rapidly adjusted to this reality, and began racing to get things done before darkness fell, and the lighting grid went crazy. In fact, most people (as they were asked later) felt as if they were doing some real living, in fact squeezing the most out of every day. But with the human brain being what it is (naturally super-fjucking curious) the lights just kept on grabbing your attention. A few minutes into watching a teevee show, you'd notice a blinking light outside and look over. You knew what you were going to see before you looked, but you couldn't stop yourself from looking.
"What is going on with those lights?" You'd ask yourself, but you'd also know, just as you asked it, that you were never know the answer. Of course they called the Department of Power, and the City Engineers, and Lighting Maintenance, and what the hell ever branch that had anything at all related to lighting, and not one of them could find an actual problem with the damn things. "There was," they said, "No problem to fix. The city's lighting was operating exactly as it had for 90 years."
This of course was not well received.
The phenomenon was slowly driving people mad. The only recourse was to go home, shut your blinds and curtains, and pretend it wasn't happening. Many people did not have the inclination to do this. During the days, people were test, short, and aggressive to the point of violence.
A few weeks later, some nerd at the local University had arranged for a recon satellite to download a months worth of video of the nightly phenomenon. He ran it thru program after program searching for some sort of pattern...and came across a filter, which produced a rather simple and startling discovery. The City's lighting grid was flashing on and off in a huge signal of binary code. On off, one-zero, projected on a screen with scale of miles. After the discovery, it only took a few seconds to decode. It read simply two words repeating over and over. "Help Me."
This, of course, was not the most settling message to receive from the city's lighting grid, especially with no contex whatsoever. Was it the City asking for help, or was it only the lights that needed it? Was it the electrical grid that had somehow become sentient and beaming this message? Who was the fucking message to!
All of those were good questions, but since then nobody came up with any answers, and the damn thing's still doing it. I sure-as-shit know that it's been getting to me, and I've been acting funny. A few of my friends, Gjod bless 'em, have called me on it...and I wasn't afraid to say it.
"I just know I could get my head straight if someone could just do something about these fucking blinking demonic lamp posts!" And that's when it hit me. I'm that someone!
I took to the streets at night, and my car would have scared any cops who might have pulled me over. Slingshot, speargun, pellet rifle, .22 caliber rifle, .22 caliber target pistol, .32 special, crossbow, double barreled shotgun, baseball bat, all within easy reach. I picked different spots, and slowly, methodically began dealing with the maddening lights. The news picked up on it, and gave me the name, "the Lamp Post Vigilante." As soon as I got some press, others joined the cause, and despite the authorities calling for it to stop, within a matter of days, nearly every external light was smashed.
"Help Me?" Yeah, I'll help you City...buy cutting out your tounge.
Things are much better now, and my friends have noticed. "Lookin' good!" they'd say, and I'd reply "Feelin' good!"
Of course I'm of the firm belief that the City has taken a new medium to transmit its message...the water system! Now I spend hours of the day watching my faucets, wondering how it's transmitting. Sometimes when I'm in the shower, it goes from hot to cold, and back to hot again...I'm not sure what it means. I do know that taking down the city's water system will be a lot harder than breaking a few lights.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
This one's for Craig. Since he brought up the idea that America might soon be rad again
I just sniped this outta' a crazy web-hyperlink-a-thon, mostly 'cause I think WWI is a supa' interesting topic of historical awesomeness.
***A Well Known British Nurse Observes the Doughboys
(One day) I was leaving quarters to go back to my ward, when I had to wait to let a large contingent of troops march past me... Though the sight of soldiers marching was now too familiar to arouse curiosity, an unusual quality of bold vigour in their swift stride caused me to stare at them with puzzled interest.
They looked larger than ordinary men; their tall straight figures were in vivid contrast to the undersized armies of pale recruits to which we were grown accustomed...Had yet another regiment been conjured out of our depleted Dominions? I wondered, watching them move with such rhythm, such dignity, such serene consciousness of self-respect. But I knew the colonial troops so well, and these were different: they were assured where the Australians were aggressive, self-possessed where the New Zealanders were turbulent.
Then I heard an excited exclamation from a group of Sisters behind me, "Look! Look! Here are the Americans!"
I pressed forward with the others to watch the United States physically entering the War, so god-like, so magnificent, so splendidly unimpaired in comparison with the tired, nerve-wracked men of the British Army. So these were our deliverers at last, marching up the road to Camiers in the spring sunshine! ... The coming of relief made me realize all at once how long and how intolerable had been the tension, and with the knowledge that we were not, after all, defeated, I found myself beginning to cry.
Nurse Vera Brittain, V.A.D.
Memoir, TESTAMENT OF YOUTH
***
Yeah, that's the Bugs Bunny, Humphry Bogart image that we never should have lost. Probly time to get it back.
"America. We're Pretty Rad."
-Craig Rose-
***A Well Known British Nurse Observes the Doughboys
(One day) I was leaving quarters to go back to my ward, when I had to wait to let a large contingent of troops march past me... Though the sight of soldiers marching was now too familiar to arouse curiosity, an unusual quality of bold vigour in their swift stride caused me to stare at them with puzzled interest.
They looked larger than ordinary men; their tall straight figures were in vivid contrast to the undersized armies of pale recruits to which we were grown accustomed...Had yet another regiment been conjured out of our depleted Dominions? I wondered, watching them move with such rhythm, such dignity, such serene consciousness of self-respect. But I knew the colonial troops so well, and these were different: they were assured where the Australians were aggressive, self-possessed where the New Zealanders were turbulent.
Then I heard an excited exclamation from a group of Sisters behind me, "Look! Look! Here are the Americans!"
I pressed forward with the others to watch the United States physically entering the War, so god-like, so magnificent, so splendidly unimpaired in comparison with the tired, nerve-wracked men of the British Army. So these were our deliverers at last, marching up the road to Camiers in the spring sunshine! ... The coming of relief made me realize all at once how long and how intolerable had been the tension, and with the knowledge that we were not, after all, defeated, I found myself beginning to cry.
Nurse Vera Brittain, V.A.D.
Memoir, TESTAMENT OF YOUTH
***
Yeah, that's the Bugs Bunny, Humphry Bogart image that we never should have lost. Probly time to get it back.
"America. We're Pretty Rad."
-Craig Rose-
The Vacationing!
Yeah...we're a little slow ova' here at the WCB of Fjord. Howeva' it does seem as tho a huge variety of things are cut into massive chunks and thrown in the pot. My hope is that they cook down into an awfully tasty stew.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Um, You're Soaking In It!
So not too long ago I found this little article about political revolution, and the seven steps to getting there. It's four short web-pages long, and fairly interesting if you have a passing interest in these things. If not, you should skip the rest and watch the gjoddang octopus video I last put up, cause meng, it's pretty fjucking awesome! (the soundtrack is also particularly soothing too)Anyways, if you're still here, we'll go explore a little deeper into the Fjords, hoping for some gjood stuff.
Today's post goes something like this.
I was thinking about back in the day (as I was someone old enough to watch it happen on my teevee) when the Berlin Wall came down. Man, that was a sight. It was a symbol for we idiots in the West, about everything that was wrong with the Soviet Union, and Communists, and all the stuff that made societies and economies work. And the thing is, no matter how you looked at the world -politically- before then, it all changed.
And by that I mean...when I was a young lad, I remember rootin' for the Mujaheddin to defeat the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. I remember gleaning out of the (pre-internet totally broadcast/press news) that we (in the U.S.) were actively supporting the native Afghan rebels, and enthusiastically wanting them to win. When the Soviets rolled out of Afghanistan, I literally felt like the forces of good had won, had, with our help, defeated the bad guys.
'Course, in those times, for those of you who didn't live thru it, (or did but were uber small) the common narrative that stretched thru everything was, the United states had 10,000 nuclear missiles, and the Soviet Union had like 50,000. (The reason being (so they explained) ours were so much more accurate, they needed 5x as many to make sure they took out the target they were shot at. 'Course, we all know you hit a major city with a nuke missile, it really doesn't matter where you hit it.) But anyway, this is all background crapola.
If there were to be a war, no matter who launched the first strike, and who launched the counterstrike before the first strike hit, the whole planet, well, life on the whole planet would be changed in such profound ways that I would not even be capable of this narrative, unless it was with twelve people gathered around a campfire after we had killed an 8-legged deer, and people were asking to hear how the world was...before. And, why everyone had five eyes, that fin, six breasts, and three testicles that were sterile. But that's a different story.
The Soviets were not just an enemy to us, they were the foe that could bring and attack so destructive, that it would destroy all life on our continent. An attack so powerful, that our only defense was to unleash a counter-attack so destructive, that all life on their continent would also be killed. And in so doing, destroy the world. Those were the stakes. No matter how it got spun, and no matter how I misinterpreted that spin...there was no mistaking those were the real stakes. I fell asleep more than a few nights wondering if I would wake up because a nuclear war happened while I was dreaming.
Okay. That's motha' fjuckin' nuts. I know it now. But I also know that's what the feeling was during that time. So to continue with my narrative...
When the Berlin Wall came down, We really had a common feeling like all the Warsaw Pact countries were free! In Poland, the Solidarity Union took over. In Czechoslovakia there was a velvet revolution led by a playwright...and after that, specifically, I can't remember the others. But one by one all the hard-line regimes changed. We thought it was going to be great. Gorbachev was a wise Saint, and no longer was there there a planet-threatening battle of ideology. (Clearly, nearly none of the people in the U.S knew a Russian, and vice-versa, we didn't hate each other, the hate was from our ideology towards theirs (and likewise, vice-versa))
There was going to be a "peace dividend" from all the money we were going to save from keeping a massively awesome global military on standby. And life was going to be AWESOME!
(And seriously, for me, the psychological weight from knowing I wasn't going to be incinerated by a nuclear warhead as I slept was considerable...even if it was, or wasn't ever real)
But around this time I thought about the downfall of Communism, and wondered, quite a bit about Karl Marx. Marx was the dude who came up with the idea of..."hey, instead of the fifty rich guys owning everything and taking the profits of the fifty-million workers working for them, let us do away with the fifty guys, and let the fifty-million workers share the profits of everything they make."
As it turns out the Communist Revolution (1917-ish, which the Germans helped along starting WWI) was run by some awful thugs, who, in pure Capitalist tradition, seized power, and made sure things for them, were pretty fjuckin' bueno. I'm no expert, and pretty sure I'm no novice when it comes to commenting about what life was like under that rule. I only assume, compared to what I know, it was pretty bad. Of course, from what I know, life is almost always bad...but I do know they got free healthcare, which isn't awful. But anyways, I need to get back to my point.
The whole deal with Marx, was a class-struggle. There were three classes, the lower, the middle and the upper class. In which, inevitably the upper-class (which already had all the money and power) would exploit the middle and lower-class workers, until the middle-class and the lower- class joined up, and united rose up in revolution, to replace the upper-class with nothing. In it's place would be a collective. A collective of people who shared the wealth that was created, thru their work and creativity. What would exist, would be a society that had no owners, and instead shared all their talents in ways to benefit the common good. Needless to say it did not work out as well as planned.
However, the reason I was thinking about Marx after the fall of the Soviet Union...was that, without this ideology to fight against, without this horrible (world destroying) enemy to keep our ideology in line, (taking full advantage of any leverage we might use against them, or persuade allies or perspective allies, against a foe that had no respect for human rights, or civil rights, or human freedoms.) we reach a simple conclujsion. In the global struggle for ideas and systems of government, order, finance, and manufacturing that work, the Capitalists have won.
It was at this moment (err, well, yaknow, it didn't happen exactly at one moment...it took a while to kinda work this idea out) that I thought to myself. "Now there's no-one to fight against, we'll see if Marx actually had anything."
Not to lead your thoughts too far along on this, but it does seem like in the last twenty-years, one particular class has already made class-struggle a pretty high priority. And it ain't the two that gots problems affording healthcare. Well, anyways, I do sorta' hope enough of 'em wake up to actually do something about it, but from what I've seen, it's already too late.
See, I told ya you shoulda' skipped this and just watched the octopus. That thing is pretty fjucking awesome!
Monday, March 03, 2008
They're baaaaack...
Mummies! This time Catholic mummies. Gjoddang they're everywhere! And of all denominations too! Pretty soon we'll be hearing about Jewish mummies, and Unitarian mummies and Buddhist mummies...My Gjod, when will it all end?
Course, in my mind, my greatest fear is that they'll team up with the jellyfish...
Saturday, March 01, 2008
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