Creative throughput

There’s a lot of creative ideas buzzing through my head, above and beyond the blogjam salon (which I’ve done nothing about after that first brainstorm), including the webcomics, the novel(s), the 23 iterations project, the political organizing, and also the really weird ones. 

Salt stains and itsy bitsy tipping

hola from the wide sea.

When I return from this far set of islands, I will have more to say.

What I have learned from my first day of school so far:

In the short run, it’s easier to deal with not wanting to be there by not going.

Everyone will assume that you are someplace else until they all arrive at the same place that you aren’t.

In order to be able to act like you’ve gotten a full night’s sleep, start by getting a full night’s sleep.

Something about them page views…

Makes me wonder whether program staff have found this page…

And if so, well hey, hello everybody!

For the most part there shouldn’t be anything personally identifiable or specific about you.

Or if there is, it should be obscured to the point that you can’t tell.

Or if it’s not, well, feel free to call me on it. Or snicker behind your back.

Not that you needed my permission for either activity…

If this call is regarding a life threatening emergency, please hang up and dial 911

Please continue to hold for the next available representative.

We appreciate your patience.

Mournful trumpets in the background.

We are experiencing a high volume of calls.  You may hold for the next available representative, or press 1 and leave a message, and we will return your call as soon as possible.

Mournful trumpets continue.

Original message repeats.
Mournful trumpets continue.

Hit “Command + T” to splice at playhead.

I once paraphrased liberally from Warren Ellis to say that a video camera is a loaded gun that you can use to take reality hostage.

I’d love a chance to go back to SRTV and give an updated version of that speech.

Watching the video last night, of the client session she called my brother in for last week (that I overheard a little of while upstairs, or just leaving?); and watching my Dad watch the planning commission meeting; and talking with Jennifer about what turned out this morning to be just a Nastygram from her Rental Office…

Bianca once told me that people are more relaxed after they’ve had sex, and when they’re having sex regularly. I rejected that, then, as being an old fashioned view of human potential. “What we refer to as human nature is often really human habit,” or some such. I was a virgin then and not well schooled in such matters.

Hijinks with Brett could be a welcome distraction; the admin meeting could be a nightmare; my credit rating could be worse than I think; everything is easier when you eat, exercise, and get a few more things done each day.

“If you don’t repeat the actions of your own success, you won’t be successful.” KRS-One

The existential what(?)

Seeing fingers move in reverse synchrony with the actual twitching of tendons to clack out the cacophany of thipps, thwaps, and k-tumps that make a computer keyboard do its transliterating thing… It’s a horror and a wonder and more than mildly discombobulating.

As if combobulation is something you can only somewhat dis…

A cousin to displace me on the couch, a note from the girl who sounds more clear headed though who knows if she’s still in the panopticon, and a sheaf of old emails answered, plus a new one out to the girl who moved out from the boy down south last weekend.  He and several others are on my call list and the day ain’t getting younger though the sun against the screen lighting up my fingers more than the graphic user interface appears to be getting stronger, making this more difficult.  Maybe i’t s just that the more I type, the lower I am on the hyperpage and thus the better the angle for reflection and the worse for pereption.  See?  There should have been a C in that.  Reify that why don’t you.

Four on her back, one on mine.

Not many people read this, so I feel comfortable being a bit vulgar.

She is in the shower now.

Soon I will be also.

Waiting for the rip.

I shaved my head, got my fingers deep into the skin of my scalp, came away with rolled bits of the flesh as the peeling began. Left behind mottled pink and tan streaks, showing the imperfect spread of my spray on sun-screen.

Still flaky, but less painful now (two days later) to wear and to behold than my red-as-the-lobster-red-tie I came home with a week ago.

Drift, encounter, touch, scream, apologize, confront, stand firm, repeat.

Someone’s in the hospital, someone may not have a job yet, someone has made a mess of the house, someone’s interviewing for an orphan, someone’s dealing with a young new director, someone’s going to get that unlucky phonecall, and someone just wants to take the day in bed and read Cory Doctorow’s new book, “Someone comes to town, someone leaves town.”

The last honest cyberpunk pawnbroker in a world of zombies

I watched large chunks of Shaun of the Dead and Johnny Mnemonic last night.
Both seeped into my dreams.
They mixed with the New York Times article on Phillips Morris’ pursuit of tobacco regulation,
Stirred by the general atmosphere of discontent surrounding my mother and brother’s spat throughout the Father’s Day weekend,
And I spent a great deal of time as the Henry Rollins character, trying to get my head around the ethical delivery of repairing cyberspace headsets for the living dead. Or something to that effect.

Today’s heartfelt desire, not made manifest through myspace email wish fulfilling forwards or sigil work: To create a consensus around leadership principles among the teaching staff today, and buy time to ready the full teaching schedule for tomorrow.