Year's End

It's nearly over.

This year I missed the Chinese New Year parade downtown, I think, and that may explain a lot. Although I had no plans at the start of the year, it lived up to that and had no focus. I'm unsure what I accomplished or what effect any of my efforts had, but it's too soon to tell that anyway. I can never distinguish between a moment's fascination and anything relevant until a year or two has passed.

I think I was far more injured than I think, and far more rewarded, too, from other events. I've learned a bit more distance and have grown increasingly skeptical about any correlation between my reality and any independent pronouncements. Much of my earlier certainty is gone, has been battered agains the anvil of other's more feverishly held beliefs, and all about I can say is I know more about the questions.

And maybe that's my destiny. Is it apathy or contentment, acceptance or surrender? I'm too close to the subject to have any reasonable answers.

I'm hoping the year got me a net zero, that I contributed as much as I took, but I know that's incorrect. I took and grabbed and pointed at myself far too often. If there's more to the human spirit than "Look at me!" I still haven't found it, and there's less to see of me than ever before.

I remember being filled with promise, with potential, and have squandered it. I think the most I've lost is the sense of my own importance, and I think there's value in that. There are more faces I'll never see again, but I hope other new ones will take their place. In the end, though, my journey is mine alone, and all I can do is be willing to share it.

The best thing to do with good advice is to pass it along. I no longer have answers, and smile when I recall the days I thought I did.


Happy New Year. I wish you all the best.

One, Two, Many

I'm told that there's a tribe or society somewhere, or was, that suffers from the same lack of scientific passion that drove me into liberal arts. In that tribe they grew quickly bored with numbers and counting and decided all they needed were the terms one, two, and many.

The tsunamis around the Indian Ocean have been called "Biblical," and I can't think of a better word. My mind and heart are too overwhelmed to grasp the enormity of it, but I can understand and appreciate many.

In other science news I love this time of year and the top ten lists. Science magazine has published a list of the year's greatest achievments but may have gone to press before today's findings by the FDA and a new drug that can be used for childhood lukemia. I someday may talk about modern drugs, but it brings up another, more interesting point.

Nowhere in the media that I've found is there any mention of the year's greatest advancements in palmistry. Astrology, too, as well as aromatherapy and accupuncture seem to have muddled through another year with nothing to show. Odd that.

I also can't help noticing that a disaster the magnitude of which has recently occurred, one that has cost many lives, somehow wasn't predicted by any of the people who make a living telling us they can see the future. I'd think, in my lay mind, that anything this enormous would have been noticeable to anyone who claimed the gift. I'd expect this to be more noteworthy than some vague pronouncement about Liz Taylor, but it looks as if I'm wrong.

I'm glad about one thing, though. Many of the NGO websites are back online. It's wonderful that they were so hammered.

(Writing news under more

X-Treme Weather

I know I'm late to the party here, but perhaps this blog should be renamed Extreme Crenellated Flotsam, just to show I'm aware of current culture. Most things successful are now extreme, and nothing save for the branded detergent is still called Ultra.

I actually preferred everything being ultra, primarily because that's not a word.

But that's not the point.

I was right yesterday about the rain. I turned on the Weather Channel to see what's up and to be lulled by its hypnotic qualities only to learn from another source that Los Angeles had experienced a couple tornadoes. Yes, this isn't Kansas or Oklahoma, but there was a tornado touching down in Ladera Hills, about a five minute drive from this house. I believe it was a F0.0036.

Which reminds me. I grew up with slide rules and may still have one laying around here somewhere (a metal Pickett). I hadn't realized the changes the HP25 would bring to the world, but wish I'd kept one of those [Enter]>[=] T-shirts. That isn't the point, either, but I was recently mourning the loss of the phrase "slide rule accuracy." I was talking to someone, it came up, and I realized that once again computers permit us to do much more than we need to. As I frequently said at my last job, "Just because you can do something doesn't make it a good idea."

How accurate do the pumps at gas stations need to be? They used to have rolling drums, much like slot machines, for measuring. Now I can tell how much gas I get to the thousandth of a gallon! I have no idea how much liquid a thousandth of a gallon is and even less of an idea of why I'd need to know it I'd received seven rather than eight of them.

Oh, that's right: we can.

I have a fantasy that the major engineering projects of the world, the Empire State Building, the Golden Gate Bridge, the building I'm sitting in now, were all built to "slide rule accuracy," and I find that reassuring.

Oh, yeah. The other thing I used to say at work is "Yes you can, but you may not."

In the "more" section I delve into the threatening area of Literary Fiction

Today's Thrilling Entry

It's raining. Perhaps this blog can be a weather charting one. That interests no one.

I've finished yet another Fantasy NaNovel, and have started wondering about writing one of my own. Why are they always set in Medieval Times? Is that when the worlds that permit magic stop? To be different I think I'd move mine up a spell, perhaps to some Dikensian Industrial Revolution time period. Also, I'd get rid of the unnatural limits on magical power and cast aspersions at the notions that it's at all difficult. You have to memorize a spell, a couple sentences. That cannot take years, so my guy would become a master magician in about a week. Also, since spell books are allowed, he'd be able to start the first day. There are no challenges in a world that permits magic, so why create them?

I think the limits on magic use, this "draining," are a result of game playing. It works for play-balancing, but rings false. If you know the spell you can cast it. Also, none of these weird-ass restrictions. Hell, magic in my world would be as reliable as gravity. So, the guy becomes instantly all-powerful and unstoppable, if that's not redundant.

I find the whole notion rather...silly. Yes, I'd love to live in a world that had ghosts and powers and healing spells and transporting and mind reading, but I'll have to create one. If I do this it would be called Magus One and would only be written to silence the multitudes who create hamstrung magicians.

Merry Christmas!

Ever'body gets presents!

So by now everyone in the nation who's getting anything for Christmas pretty much already has. We traditionally open on Christmas Eve, a habit that annoyed my friends who had to wait until Christmas Day when I was growing up. Stuff from Santa, of course, only showed up on Christmas Day, but by then I was already enraptured with what I'd received the night before.

I've yet to see a shiny new bicycle on the street in front of my house. Nor any razor scooters, Segways, or any other evidence of anyone getting any large gifts. I suspect many of my neighbors are indoors, stuffing their new iPods. The less fortunate are having to use cheap knock-offs, and will soon be suffering the humiliation of not having white ear pods when they choose to listen in public to the music they already know and love.

I've just completed another NaNovel. I think my sixth. This last one was set in contemporary England. I'm considering updating my writing page since I should put down somewhere more of my thoughts about writing. That would seem to be the place.

It's a sunny and warm Christmas Day here. I may wear shorts. I'm currently baking some bread (well, using my bread maker) because although there's tons of leftovers I cannot make either a turkey or a ham sandwich. Yes, surprisingly, to demonstrate gluttony we had both ham and turkey last night for the feast. I have no idea why, but since my niece brought her son we at least numbered four.

Everyone got clothes.

I need to blog less about my life and more about ideas.

I Need More Than a Subject Here

It was a Christmas Eve of bike riding.

I traditionally do all my shopping on Christmas Eve. It immerses me into the holiday spirt. Something about the crowds, the frantic pace, it's a good time to shop.

This year, not so much. First, the holiday will be very small, just a few of us. No kids. I'm beginning to understand all the sociologist's wailing about the disintegrating nuclear family. Still, if I chose to travel I could be surrounded by many people with whom blood is shared.

I chose not to travel.

It took a couple trips to and from the local mall and shopping centers to purchase and transport my assortment of gifts. They've yet to be wrapped, but blogging is, after all, a priority. When I wrap them I like to think I do with an eye toward ease of opening. Nothing else can explain the sloppiness. Loosely wrapped gifts with a minimum of tape, that's the ticket.

I know one way to wrap: poorly.

Anyway, the bike ride was pretty much uphill and against the wind both ways. There's a nasty hill near the local Catholic Church (St Something) which I tried to avoid with moderate success. That church, by the way, is rather famous in our family. My mom used to point out the anachronism of the statue of Jesus out front, the one with him holding and reading a Bible. I believe the statue is made of poured concrete.

Anyway, it's time for Perry Como, Tony Bennett, and the Sinatras.

Blogworthy?

I'm back and already confused.

Should I rant about events and ideas that bug me? Should this be professional in that regard, the kind of blog that people would read for pleasure, or should I continue to explore my tortured soul? I'm not sure anyone's particularly interested in the nature of the demons that hound me (none of them are unique), but I do enjoy baring my soul in sort of a journal. You may not be, but I wonder if I'll ever go back and read these and join the chorus of people shouting "Shut up and get over it."

But the pain I feel is very real. I just need to get over it, to accept it. I got a stinging disappointment today, but who didn't? Why do I feel I don't deserve to be snubbed?

Onto writing. If Big Train Show were a screenplay, one that would earn me millions, the esteem of everyone featured in People magazine, the acclaim that only an Oscar (tm) can provide, I may have the beginning:

Ext. Night

I'm now stuck. I'm not sure what would come next. Do I tell the director how to shoot the movie? Does she need to know the engorged sun is hovering just under the horizon, that Sid is kicking at debris at the side of the road? Maybe I should stick with prose. I could, however, use the money.

Is it Working?

I dunno. Maybe it's working.

No, not the RSS feed thing. That's just expecting too much!

[The Archives are a bit iffy for now...but they should be fixed by ... later]

Leaping Into the Twentieth Century!

Yes, I have the little RDF button on the top!

One might think that means this blog now has an RSS feed (like all the good ones do), but I think the only thing I've accomplished is to make it *look* that way. Sure, the button's there and some software's been installed and tweaked. That means nothing!

I don't believe anything's actually working yet, so let this merely remind us that appearances can be deceiving.

Elves in Workboots

I can't explain this, but I doubt it's anything paranormal.

And, yes, I'd love to see a ghost some day, or a UFO.

Anyway, elves descended on the home sometime last night and fixed the water heater. I have no idea how they did it, or how long a reprieve I've been granted, but it stopped leaking. And, it still does that which I ask of it, which is limited to heating water.

I'm not complaining, mind you, but unwilling to believe it's fixed for good. I think it's about ten years old and no doubt had a ten year warranty (like I ever keep track of that shit), so I think I've bought at most a few days, but I'm happy not seeing the thin trickle of water coming from the top.

I had no idea these nighttime elves could be so considerate, and so handy with pipe wrenches. It gave me time to research (read: surf the Internet) to find out how much one of the water heaters cost. My guess is I can get a new one installed for about a grand or could try to do it myself. How hard can it be? There's a gas line to hook up, and a cold water in and a hot water out. Oh, and some venting stuff. If the old chimney can be reused or adapted, that would be best, but that would never happen in my world.

The advantage the plumbers have, of course, is that if they need a adaptor or a part they can run to their truck or to a store and get one. I'd have to leave the damn thing half assembled and ride all over town looking for it and would then, ultimately, return with the wrong one.

I did notice a bunch of these tankless water heaters. They cost quite a bit more, I think, and I have no idea if they work or if they're only for special uses (propane?) or what, but it would be pretty cool just to heat the water as you need it. Perhaps I should look into them...

I've been reading. I'm considering writing TRE all over again because I think I can do a better job on it. I wonder why I'm never satisfied with anything I've done, why I can't just move on...

Day of Rest

I need a rest following yesterday, when I did nothing.

Today, again, I'll be doing nothing, saving everything up for tomorrow when I can do what I want without worrying about being judged. Yeah, I worry about that a lot.

As soon as I'm done with this entry I'm going to haul my misbehaving PC downstairs and look at it. This, I'm sure, will accomplish nothing, but I'm curious to know the make and model of my video card. Also, it occurs to me that that machine, a tossaway e-Machines from CompUSA (before e-Machines was purchased by Gateway), must have come with some video something or other. I'm not sure if I replaced the mobo or just the video card or what.

Ideally, I'd buy a replacement card just like the old one so I wouldn't have to worry about how to update drivers and whatnot under SuSE. WXP will no doubt notice the card and ask about it, but I need to tell the other operating systems it's there to begin with, I think. Windows, as always, is friendlier, but demands one to accept its judgements.

I may also bike out to the stores. I need food and water. Also, adhesive tape.


UPDATE: I'm writing this from the once-dead computer. Because I am *so* clever and knowledgeable, so familiar with all things computer-y, I was able to yank out the non-working card and use the built-in one. WXP, oddly enough, didn't notice the change and SuSE got it all wrong. Nothing graphical worked until I went in and "modified" all the settings manually. Long live console mode and emacs!

So, my spirits are a bit better. Now...stores and shopping or lawn work or reading or putting up the damn Christmas Lights????

Grrr

Life continues happening, much to my displeasure.

This morning I awoke to a mildly flooded back hallway (the enclosed porch where the washer, dryer, and hot water heater are located). The water heater is broken and leaking.

When my sister awoke we talked about it. Actually, I came back from the store and she was watching TV. I say, "Oh, shit."
She says, "What?" and I mention the water heater. She says "It looks like someone hit it because it has a dent."

Now a little about me. When she says that I take it as an incrimination. I know *she* didn't hit it, and she later says she knows the dogs couldn't do that so, once again, I'm being blamed for something. Either I'm paranoid, or else simply surrounded by women whom I continually anger or disappoint. I don't have money for a plumber, so here I go farther into debt. I don't want this reality and wish I were dead and didn't have to deal with this shit any more.

Then, my computer broke (this is a backup one). My guess is the graphics card. It runs fine in console mode under BSD, but can't do the graphics for WXP or X-Windows. The linux console works, but looks bad (it has ansi graphics, white letters on blue). I'm letting it rest, hoping that solves the problem. That same course of action, by the way, is how I'm dealing with the water heater and explains my difficulties with life.

So now I'm without the good computer. That may require a new video card, another expense and the hassles of new drivers, again pushing the limits of my know-how. I just hate everything. I know that I'm the reason these things all happen, I keep putting shit off and ignoring reality, so I can only look in the mirror to see the culprit.

Now I wish I had one of those fire in the belly, positive attitudes, the ones that happy and succesful people have. Instead of gritting my teeth and dealing with the problems, I just want them to go away.

Vegans are your friends!

The bad thing about today is it's one day closer to January. I expect to hear from assorted medicos then, reminding me of postponed checkups. "Oh, sure, I'll be back next year," I said. "I can't afford it now." Thus goes the race between an entropic body and a dwindling wallet.

However, I still have one good eye and have been reading up a storm. I finished Catherine, a remarkable NaNovel. My God, the thing not only makes sense and is full of savory phrases, there's lots and lots and lots of like..um..er..intelligent thinking going on in it. Discussions of religions, the nature of humans, even a shout out to Bethany!

It's been a long time since I read something that made me think so much. It was a pleasant experience. I think my sights are quite a bit lower. I use the Graham Greene explanation. When asked about some of his less ambitious works he called them "entertainments." I like that term.

So today I dashed off my first impressions on Catherine. I could easily write a book just discussing the things I loved in it. The trouble is, it takes forever to write critiques. I could talk for half a day about it, about anything I read, but that would entail writing for sixteen.

The NaNoWriMo Yahoo! group is more active than its been in years. Active in the sense that I think some people are actually sharing and reading. That old group hasn't seen that in years. But the thing that really made my day is that someone who's read Big Train Show and who knows a thing or two about aviation said she wasn't laughing all through my blimp adventure segment.

As she said, and as I've been taught and have been doing all along, you can make stuff up if you don't know the facts. Reality must be twisted to meet the needs of the story, and that's as true for facts as it is for events. I have little idea what the inside of a blimp is like, but I know what the story needed and was able to apply some common sense and come up with something workable.

Perhaps that's why they call it fiction.

Oh. Damn. No room for the vegans today.

Not About the Vegans

This could be about the vegans, but isn't. I'm saving that one up (which means it will either never show up or be here later today).

Today I'm reaping what I sow. I've been negligent about answering e-mails, posting blog entries, updating my site, doing any and all of those online electronic wave of the current duties. Oh, sure, I'm making some headway on seeing every piece of porn on the Internet but that's of little consequence.

I'm inspired now, as is often the case in the morning, and I'm hoping my eagerness will extend until at least early afternoon. I need to decorate the house, do some shopping, and do some reading and writing. Only some of those things require me to ride my bike.

But that's not the point.

So late last night I tackled my e-mail. I wrote to a number of people and when I went to bed I saw the benefit of blogging. If anyone bothered reading this (which some might if it were updated more frequently than monthly) I wouldn't have to send out so many individual e-mails all saying the exact same thing. The advantage to that, of course, is that I learn how to rephrase things. Always a good writing practice.

The reaping part comes to fruition now. It's not a big thing and is good for letting me laugh at myself, but after all my e-mailing last night I expected many replies. Of course, since I'd ignored answering them for up to a month, no one wrote back! It's humbling, and I can never get enough of that.

Here I am thinking everyone is all excited about getting Russell e-mail, as if their lives depend on, revolve around, or are somehow enhanced by me. Truth is, we all have many things to do. I'm sure I'll get responses later (and no doubt more punctual than mine), but I had to laugh at my disappointment.

In other news...the heater is rattling like elephants wrestling in sheet metal. I forsee much coldness in my future. I may attack it with a wrench and see if I can find anything to tighten.

New Entry

I have a feeling I'll be starting this back up again.

Tomorrow I may talk about vegans.