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| march 2009 |
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| What Is Me | 3:30am tuesday, 31st march |
CODE OF HONOR
Don’t be a hypocrite.
Be thankful for what you can do, and what you are, not proud.
Mean what you say, say what you mean.
Do not stand by when you can do something.
Take responsibility for all your actions.
Be humble in the face of the world.
Don’t complain.
PRECEPTS
Better good than lucky.
Work is the only magic.
You love in proportion to the work you do.
Truth is always best.
Faith in the justice of God.
Better to hope and be wrong.
Simplicity.
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| physics | 2:28am friday, 27th march |
suddenly now, i am blind to all but information
inspecting the manifold zettabyte representation schemes
in the chaos, the deeper order bubbling out as physics
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| Trauma | 2:35am monday, 23rd march |
Last weekend, my hard drive crashed. I did an OS update which restarted, or tried to, and OS X would not boot. Tried 7 or 8 times, kept getting an I/O Error. Crap. I called the Apple Store in Manhattan, but their earliest appointment was Tuesday morning 2am. So I said I’d be there. Tried all Sunday and Monday to recover, but it was no good. Turned out my backup had corrupt files on it, too. Long story short, got a new hard drive and spent Tuesday strategically deleting files from the backup drive, and got mostly everything back into shape. Unfortunately, the developer tools and various Unix doodads did not copy. Have to download a 1 gig file from Apple and hope for the best. But I swear, this was more traumatic than getting my gall bladder removed back in December. Such is the way it goes, I suppose.
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| Voices | 12:27am thursday, 19th march |
Where shall we have a voice in this multiplex sprawl of a world? In the randomness, motion, the innumerable faces and hands, words in thousands per second being thrown out into the gray air, and mass produced plastic toys and utensils — where are we in relation to all the complexities? I exist merely as a set of quantum pixels, and sometimes, I feel that the whole is not worth any more than the raw collection of its parts: if they were to be scattered through the galaxy, the atoms would be doing just as much good. And I know that if we all could be heard in every venue, the sound would be deafening, confounding and horribly confused. Can it ever be more than noise, the sum of all songs? As if some principle need be (can be?) discovered that makes a simple harmony of the multitudes, and multitudes...
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| waking | 12:23am sunday, 15th march |
too long in dreaming
what shall i wake to?
real life i have only seen shadows
hints that things were happening
the great river i will join again
courage, traveller
find, walk in light
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| Strangers | 12:39am wednesday, 11th march |
Everyone is a stranger, to a varying degree, but a stranger nonetheless. Our own selves, we may find, the one we least understand. Do we truly know what we are capable of? Perhaps we really don’t want to know such things. And those closest to us: sometimes I look at them and they seem so indecipherable. Could it me the madness that has stayed with me that makes me feel this way? Something about it make me believe that it is something that has at least corollary in the spheres of normality, just that my particular point of view makes me aware of it. We know not the man next to us, the ones that share our beds even, as we do not truly know ourselves. I think we merely get used to not knowing, and forget to question such things. I wonder what else we take for granted?
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| The Gray Tree | 12:22am saturday, 7th march |
This picture has significance from this period in my life. 
Click on this to get a larger version. I dreamed about this tree. And I imagined that I had been in Hell in other dreaming, that I didn’t remember. It’s called The Gray Tree, by Piet Mondrian, quite different from the pieces he’s famous for. It was in a book on Escher, for some reason. That book I’ve lost twice. That was also the book where I stared at the doomsday clock. Ah, memories. One day I’ll make sense of them all.
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| Fathom | 1:10am tuesday, 3rd march |
I have awakened to a life that was somehow built in some sort of darkness, or haze. I cannot recall how it all happened that everything around me was arranged, how the things people know about me were done. Somehow. For reasons unknown, I have become someone that others can depend on to get things done, that surreptitiously, I have grown up into this man that understands responsibilities. It is all very strange to me. But there is only one course now, in this great river of the world: that I take hold of what is before me, and make of it the best I know how. Even if I know not how this came to be, nor what is to come. That is the way of the world, and this I must fathom.
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