sorry, lack of connection
Personal log 10/08
Going to the adirondaks. Planninq on listening to as many cds as possible on the trip. Now playing: track 6 of /sacrelage 2.0/.
There exists some mixed signals over whether bret will be present during my 3-day stay. All shall be cleared up by tomarrow. We left at 3:30 so we should be there by 9.
NP: "amedeus mix" on original (dec. 03) DS soundtrack. My teeth hurt like hell because I just got my braces back on Wednesday after about 6 months without, after getting two teeth pulled a few weeks ago. Therefore, I requested yogurt in my /exodus consumable/ to soft foods. Unfortunately, and for reasons unknown, my parental-unit-on-duty chose to ignore these demands, and I was left without even a spoonful of my creamy, lacto-bacillus-filled ransom-of-choice since breakfast. Still I wait for the powers-that-curdle to answer my upward prayers, singing oh-la-sanctus, e-les-delicious. Some may say I like yogurt too much, but I agree against their expectations, and through that, I become victorious. Or at least, as they say in the world of the "A!", "semi-victorious". Or so my concience tells me. :-)
5:23- now switching to the 4th cd on my list, /sacrelage 3: I dream of sacrelage/, and track 1, Iron Maiden's /Edge of Darkness/. I tend to name my cds silly things, which usually sound good at the time. In this case, 3 out of the 4 cds I have heard so far on this trip have been part of a series, the first being /sweet sacrelage/. 5:29, track 2, Ayumi Hayasaki's /endingworld/. */watashi no nani omoe hikei/* : : darkness, my name is.
On that note, I have been reading a book called /Web of angels/. 5:34, Incubus - Megalomania. It's a very early (1980) cyberpunk novel, which, if I am to trust the 1984 on Neuromancer's recent paperback release, predates even Gibson's original masterpiece, albeit with less innovative hope (or dread, depending on one's pathological categorization of the concept of AI). In opposition to the "turing cops" of the legendary Cyberspace Trilogy, the Web of this novel is dumb, or reasonably so, employing a buggy (and insecurely flexible) natural language parser and a tree-like graphical display of points as an interface, with a keyboard, cursor, and set of POTs as input devices, a setup disturbingly devoid of direct neural input for those of us who, like me, are Gibsonites at heart.
5:51- now in the midst of track one of cd 5, /soliloque/ and /newskin/ respectively. Now on track 2, next track is the song from the KG promo teaser, a favorite of mine. It uses a techno beat and a set of audio channel effects to bring beauty to ugliness, much like Gibson's metaphor for the entire cyberpunk genre he would create, used in reference to Ratz the bartender in chapter 1 of Neuromancer, and I quote: "In an age of affordable beauty, there was something distinctly dignified about the lack of it." Track 3 end, np: In Flames - Ordinary Story. Rest.
6:26- cd 6, /prison of flesh/, track 1, Blue Oyster Cult - Don't Fear the Reaper. This cd represents the various pieces of mundane, carnal existence which restrict us as a species, and keep us from attaining immortality in bodies of silicon and minds of data structures. Track 2: Meatloaf's elegy to the truest form of an untrue neural allusion, /I would do anything for love/. Makes me wish for the kind of partner he's singing about. However, I am rather unlucky in love. To add to my problems, the girl who I have had a crush on since last year, the girl who seems so perfect for me, is going out with a friend of mine, and has been, secretly, since our introduction. Not wanting to do anything hostile, I attempted to do even less (if at all possible, to have a negative in movement) to show my affection for her. Currently I'm hoping for some sort of release from the vague, dismal lonliness and subconcious pining for human contact I've been living with for the past two years since my previous (and sole thus far) romantic experience.
8:10- finished cd 7. Had ice cream, "red rasberry velvet", sounds like a hentai. Np: /fushigi yokatta/ track 2, entitled "dernere danse". French song, off the cd which, in my concept, represents a woman who wears a mask. Track 1 was "Places Come to Fear the Most". Np: track 3, "white afternoon".
10/09-
1:23 pm- bret is here, accompanied by his boyfriend (also named bret), his stepbrother, and his stepbrother's friend. Conversation is light and amazingly uninspired, and I'm pining even more for human contact.
10/10- hung out with bret and bret (or as I like to call them, "The Bret"). They ignored my presence to a certain extent, going about their business interupted periodically with speech, sometimes toward me. They wanted to be alone on the cliff, so I left to make this entry. I now sit in front of the gas stove, fake wood glowing, stylus in hand (I'm a righty), trying to be poetic and failing miserably. Cogito ergo mort (sp?). I can hear the Order of the NeoLuddite now, telling me to lay off the energy drinks.
I am in anime withdrawal. I have only a few amvs and video doesn't like to work on my grandfather's computer. I'm currently online, but it takes a while to retype everything so I'm planning on waiting until I get home.
First entry to the FAF contest was nikki, with Fireflies. She won an advance copy of Okashina Kaze.
6:30- went out to eat at HardTimes. French onion soup filled me up, and so hamburger is left all but untouched. Cute waitress, blonde, a little heavy, with a ponytail. Probably thinks I'm wierd for writing on my palm with an unfinished hamburger and a plate of fries in front of me. I look upon said palm with grave intensity, twitching my tightly gripped stylus in small, seemingly random motions, appearing like convulsion's of a midnight poet's scribbling quill, paper out of site. I probably seem insane to most people: intense, individual, strange, and emotionally alien; a martian with messy brown hair, reminicent of a virgin Valentine Michael Smith sans the powers. Prose flows from my stylus like Holy Writ from Stallman's Emacs window, and I momentarily pause to survey the room. Cute waitress went to the kitchen only to come out a milsec later to correct the order of the table next to us. Out of turkey. Wait, check again. "Cancel that, turkey's back on." I had the same problem with my raviolli, sans the nix, hence the half-eaten cheeseburger on my plate and the empty (minus ice) glass of Diet Pepsi nearby.
7:14- finished eatinq. Discussed game theory and the 1980 classic /WarGames/.
7:23- bret are busy, went down to little beach. Beautiful this time of night, pitch black except for lights in the distance, illuminating horizontal pillows of billowing fog across the lake. A very mystery-novel place to die, methinks. With the bears around, slightly more likely is that kind of tragic, scenic death. A city in the distance, hidden by the hills, makes a faux aroura borealis in the cloudy sky. It is cold, nippy but not guite frigid. Fall comes early in these parts, like gaia's cold breath piping slowly in from Arctica, freezing it's path. A glimmer across the lake, a breeze of car headlights pulling into a long, dark driveway lined with dead, cheerful deciduous leaves and forboding evergreen, hidden from sight all but a single illuminated patch. The car pulls in, lights dim then flicker off. Stars sparkle unseen behind a thick padded quilt of clouds. The stormclouds have since past, leaving cool yet pacific air in its place. Light breezes sweep over the lake, in contrast to the violence of this morning. 7:41- I ready myself to leave this place and search for a warmer haven.
7:50- bret seem to be still /pris/, so I sauntered to the big beach. In stark contrast to its smaller counterpart, it is lit by thick red-orange floodlights, illuminating the sandy inlet with bright light, making the grass look like a brown wasteland and fixating the remaining shadows as to be in the mind all the more mysterious. I stand in the splotchy shade of a single pine tree, small green screen luminous in the darkness as I pace about the beach. It is sprinkling lightly, and I must save my precious from the pitterpatter of small droplets.
10/11- 12:36- finished paper for english. Wrote about Look and Feel lawsuit. Bulled what I didn't know.
Maybe I should go to bret's.
1:13- walked around. Got the feeling that bret has no use for me with his counterpart around. Now at the big beach, after helping pack up camp. I leave today.
1:18- NB: next time bret's up, I should bring Jon up. Bret brings up his friends, so we can both have friends up, and no one will be alienated.
4:43- finally got on the road, after mom's endless fiddling with her seat. Listened to Simple Mind's /Don't You Forget About Me/ a few times, and KG OST's /Future/ a few more. Now playing: Incubus - /NewSkin/ off my second newest CD, /TechnoCore/. The title is a reference to Hyperion. Np: Orgy - /Fiction/. */she's lost in coverware, it's beautiful/intoxicated from the deep sleep/*. Next: Queensryche - Screaming in Digital. */feed, you more lines, I will try, to tell you all I can/be-fore the light, you must know, what lies behind my screen/*.
4:56- playing latest CD, /electic nucleus/, in loop. Going to read something. Gouchisou sama.
Personal log 10/21/2004-
Had my first Japanese class two days ago. Nice class. Interesting people there.
Last night I was teaching the adult class at karate and I ended up teaching a cute girl, Katie I think her name was. She likes anime, and actually showed some interest in me, although it could just be the man-in-uniform kind of interest (I was in my full uniform, with black belt). Anyway, another instructor and I were teaching them (she and her sister Arie), and when it came time to do one-on-one instruction, I chose her, and she threw her hands up in celebration and said "yay!". Well, after a short while, I began to think "possibilities?". Indeed, it seems there are possibilities not existent for two years hence.
On the way home from camp, buzzed on mountain dew, I designed a programming paradigm called link-orientation and a language called erc. Later, fueled by energy drinks, I wrote the beginnings of the code which would bring this language to life. More info is at http://erc-lang.tk .
Going to the adirondaks. Planninq on listening to as many cds as possible on the trip. Now playing: track 6 of /sacrelage 2.0/.
There exists some mixed signals over whether bret will be present during my 3-day stay. All shall be cleared up by tomarrow. We left at 3:30 so we should be there by 9.
NP: "amedeus mix" on original (dec. 03) DS soundtrack. My teeth hurt like hell because I just got my braces back on Wednesday after about 6 months without, after getting two teeth pulled a few weeks ago. Therefore, I requested yogurt in my /exodus consumable/ to soft foods. Unfortunately, and for reasons unknown, my parental-unit-on-duty chose to ignore these demands, and I was left without even a spoonful of my creamy, lacto-bacillus-filled ransom-of-choice since breakfast. Still I wait for the powers-that-curdle to answer my upward prayers, singing oh-la-sanctus, e-les-delicious. Some may say I like yogurt too much, but I agree against their expectations, and through that, I become victorious. Or at least, as they say in the world of the "A!", "semi-victorious". Or so my concience tells me. :-)
5:23- now switching to the 4th cd on my list, /sacrelage 3: I dream of sacrelage/, and track 1, Iron Maiden's /Edge of Darkness/. I tend to name my cds silly things, which usually sound good at the time. In this case, 3 out of the 4 cds I have heard so far on this trip have been part of a series, the first being /sweet sacrelage/. 5:29, track 2, Ayumi Hayasaki's /endingworld/. */watashi no nani omoe hikei/* : : darkness, my name is.
On that note, I have been reading a book called /Web of angels/. 5:34, Incubus - Megalomania. It's a very early (1980) cyberpunk novel, which, if I am to trust the 1984 on Neuromancer's recent paperback release, predates even Gibson's original masterpiece, albeit with less innovative hope (or dread, depending on one's pathological categorization of the concept of AI). In opposition to the "turing cops" of the legendary Cyberspace Trilogy, the Web of this novel is dumb, or reasonably so, employing a buggy (and insecurely flexible) natural language parser and a tree-like graphical display of points as an interface, with a keyboard, cursor, and set of POTs as input devices, a setup disturbingly devoid of direct neural input for those of us who, like me, are Gibsonites at heart.
5:51- now in the midst of track one of cd 5, /soliloque/ and /newskin/ respectively. Now on track 2, next track is the song from the KG promo teaser, a favorite of mine. It uses a techno beat and a set of audio channel effects to bring beauty to ugliness, much like Gibson's metaphor for the entire cyberpunk genre he would create, used in reference to Ratz the bartender in chapter 1 of Neuromancer, and I quote: "In an age of affordable beauty, there was something distinctly dignified about the lack of it." Track 3 end, np: In Flames - Ordinary Story. Rest.
6:26- cd 6, /prison of flesh/, track 1, Blue Oyster Cult - Don't Fear the Reaper. This cd represents the various pieces of mundane, carnal existence which restrict us as a species, and keep us from attaining immortality in bodies of silicon and minds of data structures. Track 2: Meatloaf's elegy to the truest form of an untrue neural allusion, /I would do anything for love/. Makes me wish for the kind of partner he's singing about. However, I am rather unlucky in love. To add to my problems, the girl who I have had a crush on since last year, the girl who seems so perfect for me, is going out with a friend of mine, and has been, secretly, since our introduction. Not wanting to do anything hostile, I attempted to do even less (if at all possible, to have a negative in movement) to show my affection for her. Currently I'm hoping for some sort of release from the vague, dismal lonliness and subconcious pining for human contact I've been living with for the past two years since my previous (and sole thus far) romantic experience.
8:10- finished cd 7. Had ice cream, "red rasberry velvet", sounds like a hentai. Np: /fushigi yokatta/ track 2, entitled "dernere danse". French song, off the cd which, in my concept, represents a woman who wears a mask. Track 1 was "Places Come to Fear the Most". Np: track 3, "white afternoon".
10/09-
1:23 pm- bret is here, accompanied by his boyfriend (also named bret), his stepbrother, and his stepbrother's friend. Conversation is light and amazingly uninspired, and I'm pining even more for human contact.
10/10- hung out with bret and bret (or as I like to call them, "The Bret"). They ignored my presence to a certain extent, going about their business interupted periodically with speech, sometimes toward me. They wanted to be alone on the cliff, so I left to make this entry. I now sit in front of the gas stove, fake wood glowing, stylus in hand (I'm a righty), trying to be poetic and failing miserably. Cogito ergo mort (sp?). I can hear the Order of the NeoLuddite now, telling me to lay off the energy drinks.
I am in anime withdrawal. I have only a few amvs and video doesn't like to work on my grandfather's computer. I'm currently online, but it takes a while to retype everything so I'm planning on waiting until I get home.
First entry to the FAF contest was nikki, with Fireflies. She won an advance copy of Okashina Kaze.
6:30- went out to eat at HardTimes. French onion soup filled me up, and so hamburger is left all but untouched. Cute waitress, blonde, a little heavy, with a ponytail. Probably thinks I'm wierd for writing on my palm with an unfinished hamburger and a plate of fries in front of me. I look upon said palm with grave intensity, twitching my tightly gripped stylus in small, seemingly random motions, appearing like convulsion's of a midnight poet's scribbling quill, paper out of site. I probably seem insane to most people: intense, individual, strange, and emotionally alien; a martian with messy brown hair, reminicent of a virgin Valentine Michael Smith sans the powers. Prose flows from my stylus like Holy Writ from Stallman's Emacs window, and I momentarily pause to survey the room. Cute waitress went to the kitchen only to come out a milsec later to correct the order of the table next to us. Out of turkey. Wait, check again. "Cancel that, turkey's back on." I had the same problem with my raviolli, sans the nix, hence the half-eaten cheeseburger on my plate and the empty (minus ice) glass of Diet Pepsi nearby.
7:14- finished eatinq. Discussed game theory and the 1980 classic /WarGames/.
7:23- bret are busy, went down to little beach. Beautiful this time of night, pitch black except for lights in the distance, illuminating horizontal pillows of billowing fog across the lake. A very mystery-novel place to die, methinks. With the bears around, slightly more likely is that kind of tragic, scenic death. A city in the distance, hidden by the hills, makes a faux aroura borealis in the cloudy sky. It is cold, nippy but not guite frigid. Fall comes early in these parts, like gaia's cold breath piping slowly in from Arctica, freezing it's path. A glimmer across the lake, a breeze of car headlights pulling into a long, dark driveway lined with dead, cheerful deciduous leaves and forboding evergreen, hidden from sight all but a single illuminated patch. The car pulls in, lights dim then flicker off. Stars sparkle unseen behind a thick padded quilt of clouds. The stormclouds have since past, leaving cool yet pacific air in its place. Light breezes sweep over the lake, in contrast to the violence of this morning. 7:41- I ready myself to leave this place and search for a warmer haven.
7:50- bret seem to be still /pris/, so I sauntered to the big beach. In stark contrast to its smaller counterpart, it is lit by thick red-orange floodlights, illuminating the sandy inlet with bright light, making the grass look like a brown wasteland and fixating the remaining shadows as to be in the mind all the more mysterious. I stand in the splotchy shade of a single pine tree, small green screen luminous in the darkness as I pace about the beach. It is sprinkling lightly, and I must save my precious from the pitterpatter of small droplets.
10/11- 12:36- finished paper for english. Wrote about Look and Feel lawsuit. Bulled what I didn't know.
Maybe I should go to bret's.
1:13- walked around. Got the feeling that bret has no use for me with his counterpart around. Now at the big beach, after helping pack up camp. I leave today.
1:18- NB: next time bret's up, I should bring Jon up. Bret brings up his friends, so we can both have friends up, and no one will be alienated.
4:43- finally got on the road, after mom's endless fiddling with her seat. Listened to Simple Mind's /Don't You Forget About Me/ a few times, and KG OST's /Future/ a few more. Now playing: Incubus - /NewSkin/ off my second newest CD, /TechnoCore/. The title is a reference to Hyperion. Np: Orgy - /Fiction/. */she's lost in coverware, it's beautiful/intoxicated from the deep sleep/*. Next: Queensryche - Screaming in Digital. */feed, you more lines, I will try, to tell you all I can/be-fore the light, you must know, what lies behind my screen/*.
4:56- playing latest CD, /electic nucleus/, in loop. Going to read something. Gouchisou sama.
Personal log 10/21/2004-
Had my first Japanese class two days ago. Nice class. Interesting people there.
Last night I was teaching the adult class at karate and I ended up teaching a cute girl, Katie I think her name was. She likes anime, and actually showed some interest in me, although it could just be the man-in-uniform kind of interest (I was in my full uniform, with black belt). Anyway, another instructor and I were teaching them (she and her sister Arie), and when it came time to do one-on-one instruction, I chose her, and she threw her hands up in celebration and said "yay!". Well, after a short while, I began to think "possibilities?". Indeed, it seems there are possibilities not existent for two years hence.
On the way home from camp, buzzed on mountain dew, I designed a programming paradigm called link-orientation and a language called erc. Later, fueled by energy drinks, I wrote the beginnings of the code which would bring this language to life. More info is at http://erc-lang.tk .
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