- Prince Fielder is a vegetarian
- Prince Fielder is pissed off (this is a good thing)
- Quasi’s “Featuring ‘Birds’”
- RIP Gary Gygax
- THAC0 (mine is somewhere above 19, I reckon)
- Charlie Feathers’ “She Set Me Free”
- Yahoo! developer grids
- Route 27
- Wontons from Great China restaurant
- W3 Schools
After moving soft, moist boxes among the puddles, trying to keep the dry with the dry, and the wet with the water, I said, “Enough.” I came up the stairs, locked the door, and turned off the lights. Then, a pillow and a soft comforter, dry and warm.
But down there in the darkness, it persists. It will not sleep, and will run until it has nothing to back it up. I have turned off the light, but I can hear the pump and the splash and the slow trickle and I know that it will outlast me.
Been listening to a lot of Quasi, that’s all.
I’ve been notified that my host is going to be performing database maintenance on the server this blog is hosted on tomorrow morning. Just a heads-up that this site may be unreachable for a short time.
I know it’s hard to imagine life without instant access to COLD CARRYOUTS!!, but I can assure all two of you readers that you’ll survive.
Totally hilarious post over at The Crazy Apple Rumors Site. I won’t ruin the punchline for ya.
So, I got this backache, sort of lingering in the left shoulder and the neck. Makes it tough to do pretty much anything involving the upper body, including sleeping. God I’m tired. I’ve been guzzling ibuprofen for the past day and a half, but it doesn’t really help.
Anybody got some opiates I can gank?
Sometimes I think the internet does more to damage one’s intellect than television. Or maybe it’s just a question of damaging one’s initiative. Sometimes I wonder what I gain by keeping this blog. I don’t really have anything to say, and when I do, I post shit that has strange repercussions in my personal life. I will admit, it’s cheaper than any sort of real-world vice, so it’s got that going for it.
Ten years ago, I read Gravity’s Rainbow during my bus commute to my summer job. I was going through a really difficult time in my life, and I like to think that it helped me, by giving me an outside perspective on difficult problems. Or something. Maybe it just kept me occupied. Most likely, it was just an easy pass to make that 50 minute bus ride go by faster, to speed up my life for a time so that the choppy waters would recede.
Anyway. I’m riding the bus again, and I’ve pulled my copy of GR down from the bookshelf. It’s been so long; I’d forgotten the delirious heights that Pynchon’s prose can reach. Equally mournful, hilarious, complex, insightful, and mysterious, this is easily the best book I’ve ever known.
There are times when it occurs to me that I should have spent less of my high school years listening to the Sisters of Mercy, and more of them reading Proust.
