An eclectic collection of electronic, glitch, ambient, sample heavy songs that I arranged over the past three months.
An eclectic collection of electronic, glitch, ambient, sample heavy songs that I arranged over the past three months.
A year ago I started creating music. It was a hobby that I had always wanted to cultivate. But it was something that took hold this time.
During the past year I have created 85 sounds that I shared through SoundCloud.
Today we made a visit to the doctor's office to have a look to ensure baby looked healthy and happy. In the dark room, we stared up at the black-and-white screen straining to see our future family member. We saw a beautiful baby girl with great proportional dimensions.
Come celebrate my 36th birthday on 10/19/13.
The tentative plan is to attend a roller derby game in early evening then make our way back to downtown for drinks. Then finish the night with a zombie burlesque show.
My third year attending Madison Ruby. The conference last year was amazing because of the great presentations, people and festivities. Each year I visit Madison I come to love more about the town and the people.
Brian and Laura decided that 2013 was the year that we all return to GenCon. I was at first on board, but made little effort to purchase tickets and get things going. Thankfully they continued with the push and we ended up having a great time.
Similar to hectic weekends were I dedicate 48 hours to create an entire game. I dedicated this past weekend to do some civic hacking. I joined a team Friday night. We coded Saturday until the wee hours of Sunday. Presented our application and won first prize in the “Health and Wellness” category.
“Trail Safe”, our app, allows hikers and trailblazers to be more safe by notifying an emergency contact and park rangers when you fail to return from your adventures in the time you specify (all the while pushing location information to the server to make rescue easier if tragedy were to strike).
You are the object of affection. You are desired. You are both the victim and the part to play in the story.
You have infected yourself with a virus that is killing you. Your goal is to infect everyone you possibly can before your life runs out.
Unwinona wrote I debated whether or not to share this story.
I believe I am have been fairly considerate to women. However, I was not aware of how reprehensible men could act until I joined the Military.
Seated with other soldiers, in a mandatory Equal Opportunity exercise, I remember we were asked to consider ourselves to be the opposite sex and even a different race. It was then that I remember stating, when asked, how horrible it was to be a a women in the US ARMY. When the weekend arrived a woman could not walk a few feet without the cat calls, the constant interruptions, and sometimes the explicit propositions from their fellow soldiers.
This ugliness was not espoused by all soldiers; perhaps not even the majority. However, the behaviors of the guilty few was vile enough to paint such an edible image in my mind.
Poolside. Hannah and I arrived at the hotel late in the afternoon yesterday. The airplane touched down from Taipei and we made our way, with the throngs of others, through the concourse to Customs. On our left, trapped behind glass were all the people heading home. We looked at them. They looked at us.
We purchased a visa with the remaining 50 USD we had. Then we made our way over to Customs, but were quickly turned around as we did not have the proper immigration form. Retracing our steps we headed back to a counter where we filled in the numerous boxes of information.
Once through we moved to an x-ray machine that scanned our bages. Unaware, two men in uniform grabbed our bags to assist us through the lines. Once through they demanded a tip. We had not needed the help so we had been swindled by these men. I tipped them anyways with one bill they would later have to split with a friend.
The gauntlet of money changers, women with small fans, waved and coo'd at us asking us if we needed...
Hannah and I sit at the airport. They are serving hot coffee and tea. The concourse is cold. I regret not bringing a blanket.
A week and half ago Bali was a thought. It was definitely a place that Hannah and I were sure to visit, but we had no definite stakes in the ground. That was until I couldn't sleep; stricket with the late night grumps and aches that accompany sickness. At some point in the early morning I grew worried that if I did not purchase tickets soon, Hannah and I would not get our chance to go. Rightly so, it seemed, I was presented with a few options because of our diminishing window of dates. Luck drove me to piece together a trip through Eva Air. Roughly three weeks, with us returning in the middle of August.
After purchasing the plane tickets, everything else fell easily into place. The hotel was a quick online purchase. The arrangement of transport from Tacoma, my sister's home, to the airport were minor affairs that we arranged for within hours of our departure...
I recently had the opportunity to instruct several new developers in the nuances of the Ruby language.
There is a strong emphasis now for developers to test drive their development. Several of the exercises utilized tests as a safety net. Other exercises did have them write code to make tests pass.
Despite what I would call a solid upbringing the students do not immediately reach for their test framework when they start working on new exercises. It just does not feel comfortable trying to write tests when you barely have an understanding of the complexity of the problem and the scope of the language.
To those of us polyglots, now working in our third or fourth language we find it a far easier venture. I think we should think twice before we require, enforce, or guilt new developers writing software to bring with them tests in tow.
Test Driven Development requires a much greater level of mastery and understanding than we often give credit.
When I first started watching the Apple Developer videos, that are available through the iOS Dev Center, I was always amused by the participants at the talks clapping throughout various demonstrations. The presented feature would likely be saving the developers a new heap of time or give them a new tool for their belt. It's become a bit of a joke over the last few weeks. A fellow developer will be dragging-and-dropping some code object into a storyboard or xib file and I will start clapping. Always amusing when it's dropping a textfield.
iOS developers, as most other developers, give software away. A few months ago when I started down the path of iOS development I was saddened by the lack of community software in comparison to my experiences with Ruby. Namely I was saddened by the fact that there was no easy way to discover software libraries and tools. I was wrong. They have a community and there are definitely resources to assist with finding iOS software and components. However, it is still hard to integrate software into an existing application. By hard, I mean it's a fairly manual process of downloading/cloning a repository and then manually importing files into the Xcode project file. Oh, the Xcode project file we will have to talk more.
Developers make terrible testers … and designers and … likely anything other than a developer. In reality I think that most people that attempt to handle more than one concern at a given moment are generally bad at any of the supplementary tasks.
I am not trying to say that I am an exception to this rule, but I will say that when I attempt to test something or put a little design on top of it while I am still in the midst of delivering development aspects I will often times do terrible work. Just awful.
The process I use to get this to work is to deliver on my development tasks. Take a break. Return to the work, rested and ready to test it or do some design for it. If it sounds familiar - it is! It is exactly the strategy that most every instructor has presented to you about writing and editing your own essays.
Of course, there is no hope for you if finishing the work the night before. :)
I came to Ruby by way of Cucumber. Cucumber placed an emphasis on writing tests that described the products behavior. Ideally Product Owners at the helm, authoring your requirements. No good tools were made available to provide documentation for the stakeholders. Out of necessity, I created an extension for YARD. I started to work on another extension for RSpec. I even started playing with integrating Bundler. Through this experimentation I realized how little our documentation tells us as stakeholders, testers, and developers.
Tests are documentation; but they are not in our documentaiton.
So I would like to help champion the continual war to encourage documentation by building tools that make better documentation from what has already been written. In that spirit I built an extension that generates better documentation with the comments made within methods themselves: annotated source code (docco style).
Classification is useful; roles help define responsibilities. However, giving definition to something lends itself also to restriction. And this can be the unnecessary impedance or death of small systems. Within the small development team I work we have often confined ourselves to roles.
Within the company our development efforts are geared towards a particular cause.
When new concerns arise that fall outside the concerns of the individual role or the entire team it is not clear who or how they will be addressed… and often could be lost.
Perhaps it is simply applying a system or a mindset in the military where your rank, in most cases, influences a level of pay and expertise. You are ultimately and at your core a soldier which can be applied to solve problems.
It seems we encapsulate that at the current moment. I am a Software Developer 2.
So maybe it is a cultural shift that the goals of the company ultimately outweigh the goals of the role.
On a recent iOS project we wanted to integrate the Facebook iOS SDK. The integration went smoothy. We copied in the compiled library and the required headers and were able to focus on the login, authentication flow.
However, we later ran into trouble with the library working on the device but not in the simulator. We would fix it for the tests and the simulator but find out we had broken it again for the device. This back and forth continued until we had found out about Universal Frameworks.
We needed to compile the library in a format that would work on both on the iPhone and the simulator. Google lead us to this invaluable post that outlined the arduous path of creating a universal framework. A journey indeed filled with peril as there are so many opportunities along the way to take a misstep and lose your way.
To the author's credit, he does a good job of outlining the necessary steps to succeed. It is the shear overwhelming number of Xcode's build settings
The current state of iOS command-line tools for iOS is abysmal especially if you are familiar and comfortable with a particular feedback loop for building, testing, and deploying. It is code savagery! Plain and simple!
I wanted the ability to easily build Xcode targets from bash.
As an iOS developer, if you use any testing library requiring an additional, independent target you find yourself within Xcode re-selecting targets and platforms during development to validate functionality. Xcode's programming is predominately Mouse-Driven Development (MDD) and great for initial discovery but that begins to break down as you start to identify multi-target operations you want to perform quickly. This operation of switching targets/platforms is a small cost if you write a lot of test or application code up front. This fails when you want to test drive your development as this small operational cost adds up as you begin to refine your feedback loop.
A project Substantial...
I am alive. I am well.
I am still in Seattle.
I carried to full term a development position at small, downtown Seattle company that delivered celebrity and reality tv show gossip to the masses. There I sharpened the teeth I had cut when I left the employer I was engaged with when we were last together.
My days over the last month have me working alongside a friend of a friend that I reconnected with again.
It is the anniversary of what I would call my birth as a developer. Roughly a year ago I released to the community a small tool that assisted me in my day to day work. Since then I have traveled to conferences across four states where I have made friends and fair impressions with my peers.
During the evenings I teach others to do what I do. While I spend my days programming various things for iPhones. A skill I never had three months ago.
When last we left I had crossed a bridge. I am now in a new place and surrounded with love. By next summer I will be married.
Lisa and I said goodbye to each other. To allow each other a moment to grow and reflect on a life that we have lived and love and worked hard into making. It was like the closing night of the grandest production of my life. I had savored each and every run, but the brightest moment was to have this final performance. It end triumphantly.
I met Jonas in Portland and we talked. While on the surface he showed his nervous energy, it was both something that we felt. He subtly moved the conversation from metaphor to our present moment. I played the straight man and talked in definition and interpretation. We talked about Lisa and there were moments where my eyes had trouble containing the tears; his equally shining behind his glasses.
We left for a moment for a quick drink at another bar and a slice of pizza. When we returned Lisa was seated at the bar sipping some colorful drink. Her dark bangs, adorned with a small black feather, framing her beautiful face. Her body poured into a beautiful...
It was around my birthday that Lisa sat across from me at El Gaucho and I said to her that I think she should go for it. She should really give dancing her full effort in Portland. Her weekend visits to Portland were the only times I remember her being really happy in the past months. She had done well on the weekends the first few times, but was starting to become a victim of the bad weather. She hoped being down during the week a chance to establish herself, work on her game, and feel successful.
Her happiness was the most important thing. We talked about where she would live and how we would arrange visits. Nothing in detail. Never in any detail. I also said that with a long distance relationship we would need to be honest with each other. If she found someone, I hoped she would tell me. Those things often happen.
The day after Thanksgiving we packed up a few of her things and drove down to Portland. I dropped her off and said goodbye. We exchanged text messages the first few days...
Lisa and I spent the previous weekend in San Francisco. The City really showed how classy it was with the Edwardian Ball. The dealer room was a gorgeous display of amazing pieces from local vendors. We made the most of it and then proceeded upstairs to watch some of the performers. An couple performed some amazing aerial work. Before and between the shows people danced swing, ballroom, or salsa. What was assuredly interesting about the whole affair was the absolute deconstruction of most every form of dance and genre. The fashion was also richer, fancier, and more complex than the usual conventions would find in goth, steampunk, victorian, or renaissance. It was most What I saw was a healthy genre with hybrid vigor.
Before the trip, I had made an offer to Lisa: England (where she could re-visit a place she has dreamed of returning to … where she would be an alien at home in an alien country) or Los Angeles (where she could re-visit a place she had hastily left and sadly had not returned...
Long, late night conversations coupled with continual images, “free” samples delivered to my phone have left me full well working and living within what feels like an addict's hours. Early this morning I tossed about, finally waking for a moment thinking that a pillow that lay close to me was the softness of a lover's skin imbued in silk.
My whirlwind trip to Los Angeles was well received from the family, though left me a cranky mess come Sunday. Leaving LAX at 1pm, to return again at 7am was quite the adventure in tedium. However, the hours spent between those two aggravating book ends was the marrow of life.
My family gathered and ate traditional Armenian fare for my grandfather's 93rd birthday. It seemed much more casual and about the same as Christmas. I talked about my love, my life and all the possibilities that lay out in front of me.
I slipped out under the cover of … will everyone move their car so I can drive the Grandma Mobile out of the driveway. SHAL and BEAN welcomed...
My grandfather turned 93 yesterday. Los Angeles has called me back again for the day.
I find myself traveling more when I am in times of transition. As I said, there is a strong feeling of homelessness. An unfamiliar life devoid of the many welcome assaults on my senses.
Friday night started with a a little table-top role-playing. D&D with drinks fit for faggots that like to play grab ass between die rolls. We ended about an hour early, leaving me enough time to pack up a few things and make my way to Portland.
I had previously thought to leave in the morning, but my spidey senses told me, and the latte I had at 6:30PM, that it probably would be wise to find passage through the cover of darkness. I arrived all in good time as well as at a good time. Picking up Penelope at the local Plaid Panty and delivering her and her shapeshifting cuddle buddy to some place titled “North Portland.” In all reality it was a few blocks north and away from my original plans but all within the neighborhood of good deeds.
Afterwards we made it back to Penelope Peabody's pad where we meet up with ELISABETH. She recounted some of the horrors of her day as I attempted to gently massage her battle-worn limbs. We curled together under a small gathering of tiny blankets on...
I met with a former co-worker, a survivor, that has now become a friend. We vowed to meet quickly discuss the matter of medical insurance, maintaining coverage for myself and domestic life partner despite the obvious downgrade in protection. Thankfully, the coverage price is in the realm of affordable with the government break placed on COBRA. But that was a short exchange, the rest was an hour think conversation over some calamari and a drink.
I shared with her my continuing saga of love over this last month (it seems as though time has taken on a new longer format). When I came to the part of how I had taken to write letters her head turned up and away, she teared up, and her hand went reflexively to her heart. “With stamps” she asked. “Yes, with stamps.” I replied.
She shared with me a recent loss in her life, one that I begged for her to relay in story form. Her cat of six-and-half years old had recently was put to sleep from sudden kidney failure. Two days ago, alive. One day...
I met with a former co-worker, a survivor, that has now become a good friend. We vowed to meet quickly discuss the matter of medical insurance, maintaining coverage for myself and domestic life partner despite the obvious downgrade in protection. Thankfully, the coverage price is in the realm of affordable with the government break placed on COBRA. But that was a short exchange, the rest was an hour long conversation over some calamari and a drink.
I shared with her my continuing saga of love over this last month (it seems as though time has taken on a new longer format). When I came to the part of how I had taken to write letters her head turned up and away, she teared up, and her hand went reflexively to her heart. “With stamps?” she asked. “Yes, with stamps.” I replied.
She shared with me a recent loss in her life, one that I begged for her to relay in story form. Her cat of six-and-half years old had recently was put to sleep from sudden kidney failure. Two days ago, alive. One...
I remembered my eyes finding her there in the cold light of the morning. I closed them again and groped for her with my lips. I slid my lips across facial facets until I found hers only to have started their own blind journey. Sightless, her face wedged itself under mine. Wordless, there she breathed heavy and hot against my cool exposed skin of my neck. Our bodies glacially wedged me upward on top of her. My length pressed in and writhed against her length. Breathless, we slid into each other. Until I was done.
I retreated. Rolled to her side and burrowed my arm under the nape of her neck. Her head reflexively came in close to my shoulder. Her thigh slid in against my thigh. Her impenetrable dark mass of freshly-fucked curled into my nostrils. I inhaled deep and felt my chest burst open. I exhaled and felt the expulsion of my spirit. It ascended above my mirthful corpse.
I miss ELISABETH. I have taken to writing letters to her. Small thoughts, quotes, and statements of my affection...
I have fortunately remained home sick from work the past week. Carrying with me the plague that was left behind. It was a necessary extension of a vacation that I would not have normally taken. Within it I have had the time to think, write, read, talk, and reflect.
Though, I did indulge the pleasures of the New Year despite an understanding that I would be left wrecked. I attended a gathering at a good friend's house, former member, where I have for as many months been the ungrateful guest that consumes their top shelf wares without offering anything but thanks.
They had found themselves in the company of new friends. The wife wore the Cheshire grin of an open relationship across her face as I was introduced. I smiled, engaged momentarily in a flirt, and then moved on to talk with the host about a drink, new toys, and resolutions. I spent most the evening, as i always do, behind the eight ball in the drinks department. Always nursing a first while a second or third is poured.
Laying with ELISABETH, patient zero, has lead to my own illness. I'm no Calamity Jane. Though, I took comfort that the path of the illness was charted out for me already. ELISABETH outlining the discomfort ahead in store for me. Our days started late because our nights dragged on.
Coughs would drive Lisa awake at 4AM. Following a particular rough bout she started to cry. I crawled my body out of the bed and out into the living room to find the cough syrup. Boot-strapping my brain, I filled a small serving of salvation in the dull, bathroom light. Eventually the rattle of her chest would come to a calm and we would return to laying together with our arms intertwined and our legs overlaying each other.
ELISABETH spent a few hours away at work while I composed some thoughts in email and cleaned a few things around the house. It was about nightfall when we both felt overcome with illness. I came to pick her up and then we returned home for a brief respite where I felt my energy fading...
It is this strange thing of humanity that we look for significance in all that is around us and most strange with that of numbers.
As a year comes to an end we look to the next year with wonder and anticipation. But I'm skeptical when it comes to life changes that happen over the new year. While numerically significant there lacks the contextual significance.
I see the new year as a time to reflect on the changes and transitions that happened during the year and the only resolution I have remained committed to each year is one which requires constant vigilance: be authentic.
Surprisingly this is where I turn now when I think about how I want to share daily thoughts. Something that I didn't believe I would consider (and probably shouldn't if I want to keep a trail on all these entries). But I think the 'why' is similar to how you talk with someone more when you drive or gossip with your family while playing Scrabble. It's not exactly the same, but it's a reason that some might stick around and sometimes share.
My visit to Los Angeles was pleasant. Short and free from the frantic escapades of trying to balance both a family life (during the day) and friendships (at night). I met an old ARMY buddy, really an old Jr.High friend, that found himself at that moment surrounded by everything he ever thought he wanted and exclaimed that he was unhappy. His success, though mild in the grand manner of “American Dreams”, is enough to drive his friends and family away from him. The problem, for some it seems, in being a home owner.
I had the chance to meet with OTTER...
It is here in the me of the now, I find tremendous comfort in thoughts once spoken by me of a then.
“In a sudden realization, I felt as though I have again acted against my character. Temporarily leaving me feeling disempowered and distraught. Because I felt for an instance as though I had denied the overwhelming beauty and power of life, by not allowing life's sublime undertow to take me out to deeper water.
I have resigned, for the most part, to act within the best interest of this vessel in which I reside. As hesitation seems only to breed disconcerting thoughts towards unspoken passages and suspended exploits. But there exists no moment where regret or shame shadows even the transgressions of my past. I look back not in horror but reverence.
Bitten! By exhumed desires that serve to remind me that life is best lived as a banquet. That my best efforts are made in prodigious leaps and not in measured steps. I aim to rend asunder the path of a lifestyle engineered through Mother-May...
We are always at the start of something and at the end of another.
I allow the semaphores generated from the friction of my interactions with the reality around me to provide some guidance. Recently I took to reading Barbara Ehrenreich's Bright Sided which could be summed up as a pessimistic's view of reality, or a jaded person's view condemning the continuing “positive thinking”, or just a person's opinion.
The spectrum of reviews and accompanying discourse present a good picture of the polarizing nature of the material. I am, of course, inclined to believe that individuals seeking to make an argument against the character of the person are in some genuine way threatened by the message.
I think the foolishness of the optimism, as outlined by Ehrenreich, is the belief that there is an abundance of wealth, health, and love that rests in the universe and you must simply learn to will it yourself. There is simply not enough evidence to support this theory in the matters even of heath (save some studies that were cited about heart health).
The latest accomplishments are in a whole 'nother slew of the acronyms and buzzwords. It's all trivial and a drop in the bucket. Sometimes I think that at the end it will amount to a lot of something. Some cache of points. There are other times where I believe that it will be an optimization, time spent for the current day for what will, of course, feed a future for me - but one that carries with it the strong chance of equating to nothing. A creative way to twirl my fingers during my daring dive through life.
I would worry that my activities could be thought as equating to too much reality, lacking a humanity. Hours seated in front of the keyboard, moving about letters, numbers and symbols upon a screen - like a puzzle. If it is not some servitude that drives me than is it an addiction? Far too much of gritty humanity, lacking the necessary dose of reality.
I continue to think that there is really another question that is much more important: what would come about in the absence?...
From the desk of my dreams:
Going to see some elaborate Sasquatch concert at some multi-stage area, I moved through the crowd of people that were everywhere with their vans and camping gear and pizza. Littering the grass turf of the entire rolling hills were bottle caps from the beer and soda pop bottles that were raised in everyones arms.
Musically I had sworn allegiance to The Righteous Brothers as I wore a cap that stated something with a catchy slogan like “Unchain this” There were camps of music that I could walk safely and others I had to strive to avoid.
I was finally making my way past a stage, shortly before 10am. And I realized that this concert was not a concert at all but large Costco of sorts. There was this woman admiring potted stemmed flower the size of tiki torches. They were drooping slightly so she picked one up and carried to another pot. a worker there, more of a zoo keeper tried to stop her. Telling her that she would get to it. But this didn't stop her from...
Jackie became very ill. We took him to the vet. I mostly have been keeping the Facebook community updated.
I met eMusic about two years ago but it was not until about a year ago before we became close. eMusic and I met as strangers through an internet advertisement and from her front page I felt like she was trying to be more of an exclusive club, a fortress gate. I could not figure out what she had to offer and it seemed she wanted to know a lot more about me, financially, than I was usually willing to disclose to someone I had just met.
I ultimately gave it a try and found out quickly that we had very few in common when I looked for topics like: Nick cave; Tom Waits; Death Cab for Cutie; and a host of other standbys I was used to searching for with other music sites. So I left.
The iPhone I purchased a year ago had the intended effect of making me desiring music again. REMJ grabbed tickets and essentially treated me to a MIKE DOUGHTY concert at the Triple Door. ELIZAGIRL talked about her love of THE NATIONAL. And for the first time in a long time I found myself in a music store again...
As we grow older we are shown how people interact within a relationship. We are given the tiny scraps of a gorgeous, torn-up libretto. We piece together simple passages and learn to sing them for ourselves. We venture out and learn to sing them to those that we profess to love. We do our best.
There are times when I feel proud of what I have scrounged together for myself. Yet I still do not know what I have amassed, or how much, or what exactly comes next. I look to my father; I look to my mother; my grandparents, and all those around me and wonder how it is that I was not offered more help along the way.
It is not out of malice and I do not ask embittered - but it is they too have followed this same very, different journey and have to come to find just enough that works but not enough to know why or where to start explaining to someone else.
Churches, our former centers of culture, told us how this suppose to work. Some had intricate formulas, rules, and roles for those of us to...
I am currently in the early stages of Mento-Pause. I am experiencing hot flashes, happiness, sadness, discomfort, and the prevailing fear that I am at the apex of all that is that I have ever done is cool and now in the past. It is both a glorious and depressing moment that is best remembered by the ever simple hand gesture and pause. I believe another such moment will come again… but one must wonder if they have mistakenly crested and are now on the steep, painful decline to irrelevancy. One can only hope for future glories.
Your honor, I humbly bring these before the court:
1. Create an article that is a numbered bulleted-point list related to the topic.
Three Reasons Why They Work
a. The article title itself gets the mind of the reader started on the topic. Likely the reader will actually start filling in what they think is on that list. “Three things you should never forget…” or “Ten best movies…”, the reader likely has their own set of answers or can probably think of most of them. Now the reader needs to read the article to see if they guessed correctly or to see what they are missing.
b. Articles with numbered bullet points set the expectation of the length. If the article states the “Top 5 reasons…”, as a reader I expect there to be an article with five points with perhaps an introduction and conclusion. In other articles I am not afforded something like this save a possible listing of a word count (which I don't believe gives a good representation).
c. These articles are almost always drivel. After you've read the article you often leave...
I feel as though our naming conventions for media do not accurately reflect the state of sophistication of the viewer. What I mean to draw your attention to is the use of a numeric value proceeding the reoccurring name used in the title (i.e. Fallout 3, Gears of War 2, Ironman 2, etc.).
The use of an incrementing value provides the consumer with a method of distinction between it and previous and future titles while maintaining the same core brand identity. It, secondly, provides a manner to understand the order or progression in a continuing story (However, this is not the case with porn which often revisits titles with new characters and new scenarios without continuing a singular timeline).
While the use of a numeric is useful and perhaps necessary with media with a quicker, more frequent release cycle (i.e. comics, porn, television) I feel that it does an artistic injustice to media that is released on longer release cycles (i.e. movies, videogames).
I believe that media consumers...
Right now I want to be sicked.
When I dream now, it is belabored:
Last night I was convinced that I could rewrite the code that operates my sinuses. You see my sinuses were an embedded controller,an ARM7 TDMI to be exact (same thing running the Nintendo DS), and I was convinced that if I manipulated the registers more efficiently I could code myself out of my cold.
Tonight I dreamed that World of Warcraft was free, but sponsored now by various companies. Before Thrull would give me my quest to eradicate the demons from Ragefire Chasm I had to watch a preview of an upcoming blockbuster Stephen King demonic-horror movie. The game continued in that manner with raids requiring us to all watch commercials before the raid boss came onto the scene.
We have gas appliances in the new place. Lisa mentioned her hair dryer sparking and giving her a scare. I kept thinking of what a bad idea a gas hair-dryer would be if it was ever put to use.
Moving. I secretly enjoy it. At least, when I have to move my own things.
When I was younger I would re-arrange my bedroom every two months so that I would have a new perspective on my environment. I would re-arrange especially before the beginning of the school year, so that I could have that excited feeling and be focused and excited to remain indoors instead of outdoors training to be a ninja and making forts out of leaves and pallets.
I get the see my very weight in possessions. I get to expunge numerous items that have haunted me for years and hopefully bring to some light some ghosts that have not haunted me enough. I enjoy it because there is a freeing of energy that is committed to a physical space. There is a recycling and freedom of it all. At least when you feel as though you are trading up in the matters of space. This happening to be the case.
For my brain, the change of the space frees me from mentally auto-piloting through the motions of life. It causes me to look again...
I took a position at Globys. Which is a company, in a long line of companies, that will likely fade away into the nothing like the acronyms of the technologies that I am employing to accomplish the mission (CentOS Linux, Oracle, Java, Grails, Perl).
An interesting change here is me taking the job as a contractor, a full-fledged contractor (1099). Which makes learning exciting new tax rules. I enjoy filling out tax forms. It's like a financial choose your own adventure come April.
Contractors are by nature desiring to be full-time employees. While there are benefits to those in the medical arena, retirement, and tax shelters it doesn't make sense to me these days when employers bother to utter: this is a contract position with the possibility of full-time employment.
It's quickly becoming clear that I am an aberration; an individual looking to find more from my employment. A sense of being part of some kind of collective. The problem for me at the moment is that my technical skills...
I run Vista at home and XP at the office. At work I missed the ability to search and launch applications so I installed Google Desktop (Also XP file find was failing to deliever). But there were two lacking components with Google Desktop that I wanted to augment to improve usability.
While Ctrl+Ctrl was an acceptable way of launching Google Desktop I thought that there were times where I would like to use an alternate hot key combination. I was not able to quickly replicate the double key press I wrote it so you can define a different shortcut key.
Google Desktop has three states: Launch Desktop; Search Desktop; and Search Web. Most of the time I wanted to launch an application by default, the rest of the time I wanted to search the web, and rarely seek things on the hard-drive. So I set up the ability to specify a hot key for each of the states, saving me a few key strokes.
Google Desktop must be installed. Changing states requires...
New Phone. New Number
I kept getting calls from this Vietnamese family looking for their daughter or something … so I wanted a fresh start.
I need names (first last), emails and phone numbers. E-mail or message me with that info.
Purchased a Wii from a friend. Immediately updated and installed Pokemon Ranch. I run it very similar to the Gabriel Method. One step above prison, one step below a concentration camp. It's more like a Pokemon Internment camp or Reform School for Girls. The showers are cold and the time working in the fields, providing me amusement, is close to the hours in the day.
You even have an option to slave trade recently captured fresh meat to the Warden for some of her prize pieces of sweet Poke-ass.
Purchased a book to learn guitar. Instead of relying solely on the Internet. I don't particularly want to spend the money on lessons until I'm at a point where I feel like I could gain something – of course, that is probably long after I've developed a lot of bad habits.
The weather has turned nice and I've taken to biking more during the week. I start work on Monday.
I have a mild addiction to purchasing games. If I see a used version, coupled with a coupon, coupled...
I was laid off Friday.
Saturday I talked with JOKER_ about possible contract work in the future.
I got a call from Blackberry RIM, a friend put my resume in this morning, and I have arranged for a phone interview tomorrow morning.
Sending out resumes to friends and former associates this afternoon. Contacting a few recruiters I have known in the past.
Friday I saw Sex in the City with Lisa and a long time friend Jessica. I enjoyed the film.
Watching Sex in the City became a small tradition about four years ago. I would come over to Jessica's and Eric's apartment after she got off work at 6AM and we would drink Chai and eat brie & bread. She'd pop in a disc and we would watch through the entire thing. I never really finished any particular season but I generally enjoyed the stories.
Saturday, Lisa and I made an appearance at SYDNI's birthday party. We returned home for a quick nap and then went to APEROCK's birthday party. The birthday party dismantled itself and quickly reformed...
Tears streaming, Me wishing these were dreams streaming down my raw, red face. Alone and cold, wrapped tightly between soiled sheets, I wish I had not been so meek Here in this bed that once also held you. Hands crashing, My arms lashing up against the walls and windows of this old, forgotten place. Unable to push out the details of how I met you that one faithful day That now seems so fucking far away It still hurts. Pain rising, My desire yearning to be numbed by a drop of golden, sunshine love That comes in a bottle down on aisle four Down the street and around the corner at that faithful store Where we traded kisses between aisles. Pages turning, My thoughts pouring over all the words - lies, you ever sent my way I am confused on how you once cared My fears of playing the fool have made me scared Oh, how had I become so lost! Anger seething, Me watching you leaving for a life so soon worth living Feeling even more discarded and dejected from what I helped create Are you so...
Surprisingly this is likely my last day of employment at Digeo.
Unsurprisingly, I felt it was coming soon. The project that was continually postponed. Work was always coming next week.
I have this last week of pay and a little savings. I have some prospects but I'm always interested in suggestions.
Indelibly I drank deep the presence of her. Drugged up, a drunk, *hic*-up the patter of my beating heart All down to the curled toes, writhing rich in fertile loam. My heart's cacophony, a dirge for a life left *lived* Eulogized in my head, I went out how I wanted:
I remembered my eyes finding her there in the cold light of the morning. I closed them again and groped for her with my lips. I slid my lips across facial facets until I found hers only to have started their own blind journey. Sightless, her face wedged itself under mine. Wordless, there she breathed heavy and hot against my cool exposed skin of my neck. Our bodies glacially wedged me upward on top of her. My length pressed in and writhed against her length. Breathless, we slid into each other. Until I was done.
I retreated. Rolled to her side and burrowed my arm under the nape of her neck. Her head reflexively came in close to my shoulder. Her thigh slid in against my thigh. Her impenetrable dark mass of freshly...
Elle was astute. She posed this to me when we were talking during the breakup: What if you want to date other people (multiple) just because you are with me?
At the time I felt fairly sure that being non-monogamous was something that I wanted. I had spent more than half of our relationship feeling that way. I was fairly sure that was what I wanted and I thought that I wanted it regardless of the person that I was with at the time. I felt so strongly about it.
I was wrong.
I recently started dating Lisa.
I earnestly sought dates with other people as well, hoping to fill my life with multiple, exquisite relationships. It became apparent, however, that I was beginning to allow my mantra (of dating others) to override my current feelings. I was pantomiming to a musical score I wrote a long time before …
I was afraid of the emotional intensity I felt for her.
I had reached a precipice. She often talks about precipices. And for the first time in my life, in the matters of love...
I will be spending the weekend in San Francisco to attend Lil Tuffy's Sixth Annual Prom. A large number of members from Suicide Girl attend this event.
I thought of it first as a good social exercise. Attend an event that I knew very few people, but had a shared interest, and talk with as many of them as I can in attempt to establish rapport. Getting to know a few good people would be wonderful if I ever planned a quick vacation to another city, thought about moving, or sought employment.
Second, having now been on the site for nearly five years I thought that it might be good to meet some more of the members. Putting faces to names and calling names to their faces.
Third, it's a great excuse to get dressed up and see San Francisco. I haven't been in a number of years. I wanted to travel more this year and this was a feasible getaway.
Last night ended the 201 series of Improvisational Acting instruction at Jet City.
I did not study for the final exam, the showcase this past Sunday. Preparation involved me waking up at 3PM, eating a bowl of cereal, and taking a shower.
A large number of attendees packed the theater. It was appreciative and quite possibly enabling - we had reached success. While my 'corner', Martha and Lisa, fit the featherweight category, they more than made up for it with their suggestions' sting: Airplanes; Sex Kittens; and Bloody Sock.
I participated in three events. When I receive a copy of the performance I will likely YouTube it.
The first event the four of us regaled the audience with a story about an airplane attendant in a declining market that later went on to open her own airline service. Serving all-you-can-eat peanuts and eventually manufacturing her planes out of large peanuts...
I am driven in life by the discomfort that I feel within a moment. Discomfort acts as an indicator, in most cases, that I have reached a precipice. A moment where I have comprehended an end condition, but have not found the thoughts, actions, or confidence in both to reach it.
In most cases, when in control of my faculties, my brain interprets my body's anxious reaction as a novel experience. I feel energized. I am not prone to flight. I am prone to fight … or laugh, dance, talk, sing … but most of all to learn.
It might be presumptuous to say that I am doing Bad Improv but it is really starting to feel like it. This is actually positive because previously I was doing Worse Improv.
At the start I was not emotional invested in my performances. It was about having fun. I was there to play games. Simply understanding the rules of the game were enough to warrant a job well done in my mind. I had some loosely defined fears related to being funny/not-funny and that showed. I remember when I took the stage that I moved quickly, talked too fast, and did not often commit to characters, their actions, and reactions. But it wasn't until I had participated in a few scenes and started to gain a greater understanding of what was required of a successful scene that I began to become more hesitant in my choices.
Coming to understand the criteria made me conscience about what I failed to include in the scene: strong character choice; complimentary emotion; complimentary status; listening but not reacting...
I sometimes play a game while I'm walking alone. I will close my eyes while continuing down the street and see how far I can make it before I open my eyes again. I try to trust my memory of the surroundings and the put trust in my other senses. I never get very far before I find myself with my eyes cracked slightly or completely open again. I am using a poor metaphor to illustrate this point.
I don't trust myself.
I could probably qualify that with: enough. But, to me, the qualification would reduce the resulting potency and the sense of urgency that arises within me. I was reminded of this recently when I read the document I mentioned previously.
Reading the document brought a level of reassurance. There were concepts that supported in very general terms my thoughts, my ideas, and my experiences. I was amazed. However, after finishing my read through I felt sharply disappointed in myself. Why had I doubted myself as much as I did? Why did this reassurance feel so good...
I am often lulled asleep by the immensity of the details which weigh heavy on my life. It is in this ebb that I am nearly unreachable in an intellectual sense.
A particular document was suggested to me that I had wholly ignored for a number of months. The gravity of the material, as it was described to me, did not seem relevant at that particular moment. The recent change in my life has given rise to a flow, allowing me the energies to reflect.
When I was younger I remember constantly being filled with regret when I did not act in...
Elle and I broke up.
I would likely be at fault in this matter. Breakups are often like car accidents.
She has been insulated within what would likely be attributed as “my” social circles. So if you've made friends with her, please continue to reach out to her.
Bracing for impact…
Saturday was the big event that I put together for my friends in Improv, that sadly never reached all of them. If I didn't have your e-mail, I never got it from Amanda and it's likely that she never added individuals to the invite or forwarded that information to you. For that I apologize and feel as though I failed for how incredibly simple it was to put the event together.
Originally, the idea was to stage a dance at a friend's warehouse but when that venue evaporated (Insurance?). I was more than pleased to farm out the rest of the night to various locations around Seattle. Dinner was a pleasant affair at The Pink Door. Pool later at the Garage was more cramped than I had imagined. Dancing at Club V was an activity taken on by a small percentage. Beth's Cafe, afterwards, was uncharacteristically efficient. The night ended well.
I took a few pictures early in the evening but stopped later so that I could enjoy myself. It was a casual night, a low energy...
On weekends I play dress up. I pretend I'm an illusionist from the late 19th century. The character idea itself was actually born back when I made the most mundane mentalist in City of Heroes. I was often mistaken for a contact, a quest-giver, if I stood near one for too long.
My obsession with turn of the century living has always been mild. I would say, as much as anyone that has played '20s Cthulhu. But it wasn't until after consuming Deadwood and Carnivale that I started to feel a stronger pull to the genre. My recent obsession was really awoken when I set out to create Wild Card.
In the midst of a Mutants and Masterminds game that Brian was expertly running, I thought that I would run another game. Something in a Western, to mirror the fun that we had in one character's flashback (all storytelling). Deadlands sounded perfect in style, mood, and setting but it failed to convince me with it's dice-based system. I wanted to do away with dice. I wanted to sit at the table...
…feel free do shots about the cabin.
I saw Hawaii. The seriously commercial part of it. On the 31st floor, overlooking the ocean, it sounded as though the entire island hummed as a huge air conditioner. Despite that, I still have a few stories to tell. Though, when I tell them, I feel as though I trying to explain an episode of The Office (American).
I arrived in Hawaii with a fervor to drink, dance, and socialize. It wasn't until the fourth day, the last day, that I realized one comes to Hawaii to lounge in the sun and count the subtle clinking sound from ice cubes sliding about in your glass.
Hawaii felt like a huge exercise in parallel playing. People relaxingly moved about the streets and the beaches, welcoming the random onset of social interaction. However, they took no interest in intertwining for a short segment (i.e. a meal, a drink, etc.) after such an intersection. Save for some incredible Aussies, that i mistook for Kiwis, that found themselves on holiday.
In my travels I am constantly asked about my mustache. I usually end up recommissioning derelict business cards with my website information. However, I realized just recently that they would have to suffer numerous journal entries to get to the goods.
Placing my work in one location makes me realize that I far less prolific that I had started to imagine (and that I have neglected a very important non-tetrapod chordate based design). Hopefully this will spurn further research and development in the field of facial hair sciences.
Lastly, this is all part of some changes and updates that I've started to make with my website: Adding poems and stories to the writing section; Updating the code section to actually include non-student projects and repair the anchors; and readdressing some of the links back to my own website and RSS feeds instead of the Livejournal community pages.
I recently finished an Improv class. During that time I made some wonderful friends. Friends that reminded me that it's been too long since I've seen a lot of you. I'm tired of waiting for the holiday celebrations or catastrophes to bring us together.
So quite a few of us talked and we wanted to arrange a small evening of dinner and dancing. But above all that, just getting together and being: human.
There are two events: dinner and dancing. Come to one or both or don't come at all. But send the invite on to friends that you would make a great addition to the dinner table or dance floor.
You are welcome to invite anyone that fits the following criteria: they are interesting; content with doing their shoe gazing; or you're willing to help me bounce them if they get out of line.
I would love to see you there.
Parties, interested in reaching me should contact the Hawaiian authorities.
03/06/08 - 03/10/08
I lay awake with the pale ache of mediocrity Late night, lucid dreams sold to me from my blaring, monolithic screen. I am informed of my inadequacies, over sold on the possibilities, and I have never been in touch with reality. I am a perpetual adolescent. Arrested before I could develop. If I act now they'll throw in humility with all my guaranteed prosperity. The three easy payments, add very little cement to my insurmountable prison called debt. The rush from placing the order all but gone by five and a quarter Just as the dawn begins slowly rising my eyelids heavy, which is unsurprising I lay like the dead in the middle of my king size bed. Recalling mediocrity.
The idea was there in the original poem. A grueling affair proceeded in producing the above material and I'm only moderately pleased with it. To talk passionately about lacking [passion] usually defaults to rhyming and relying on commercial sloganry and cute uses of expressions of things like “arrested development....
You candidly spoke between beautiful side glances, about life, love, and music. You changed. A boy with me on the phone and tonight on the front step. A man now seated beside me in the car, across me at the table. Between thoughts I think to thank you for letting me crash headlong into your life Between stories and secrets we share a laugh, a smile, and a pregnant silence. We reach for our glasses, your hand going for mine instead. Our fingers dancing our hands together It is then I notice my brittle, chipped nails Your clammy hand swallows my cold hand whole Check please. Outside, in the darkness, I find the confidence: "I should go now, But I'd really like it if you kissed me." That same smile crossing that immeasurable distance. That same hand reaching out for my hand. And in that moment I pray: Hold me in this night under the stars, longer Allow the cold to drive us to hold each other, closer Let this kiss cause our love to grow, deeper I pray never to sleep I pray never to dream...
I have failed to listen I have turned my head aside Your mouth moves to lip-synced words Your words clichéd with each passing lie I have sold myself into this slavery I have sealed my own fate Your poorly dressed web holds me close Your fallen promises taking a horrible misshape I hold on because it's easy I hold on out of fear Hold on to naive dreams of true love Hold on through every shed tear. I am too weak now to struggle I am too small now to leave You have burned me through these trials by fire You have bruised me more than I can believe. Yet I hold on. I have to hold on.
The first in a series of poems resurrected from an old tome of poems. Poems of Anguish is the nickname of the notebook I started to carry around right after I signed up for the military. A notebook that existed saw heavy use. Starting from the end and working my way to the front brought me this piece of work.
While the idea was retained, the almost lyric-like finished product wasn't nearly there....
Sometimes the bacon is too bad to bring home. ~Frank
Giving the pork back to the pig. ~Frank
The other white meat? ~FDAApproved
Perhaps a shower is in order. ~Sigtrent
Finally, truffles found on American soil. ~duckierose
All gothed up, She threw her spiked heels into the pedals over the hot pavement. A wicked witch bent on reaching the radioactive cafe. Unsure ease, Shown in her pumped steps across the warped deck, melted to the familiar face bouncing the door. She was now among friends. Inside, Enveloped in shadow, Music washed over her. "Love will tear us apart again..." Waking gray matter coma'd by retail drudgery. Small arms splayed; Feet marched in time; Her angst in an ebb. She knew then that life's course could be stayed for another night.
Saturday afternoon I am attending a meeting arranged by the local lair. The expression, lair, makes me think I should bring my Player's Handbook (PHB) and dice. The host asked me to bring a six-pack of Moutain Dew: Code Red which doesn't help in creating any level of seriousness.
In recent weeks I have been introduced to a number of individuals that are part of the seduction community. Average, Frustrated Chumps (AFC) hoping to become Pickup Artists (PUA). A friend of Brian's came to visit a few weeks back. He recently completed a PUA bootcamp; revitalized after escaping an eight years relationship that ended in a failed marriage.
My Improvisation class, and the others in the building, this quarter have been infiltrated with PUAs. Improv, regarded as an exception skill to tap when one finds them self in conversation out on a night out (sarging). It took five weeks before I learned the identity of the PUA in my class. In a similar story he recently found his way out of a ten...
Shared paths with women will find me the shadow. Their aromatic comas expelling intoxicating gases. Riding in the tail, I chase the comet.
Teriyaki, the word, is a cultural neutralizer. It is an Asian food whitewash that brings comfort to lunchtime patrons.
I have been taught that life is easy. The work, saved for the montage. That moment has yet to come.
1.5 lbs. of beef
8:32 minutes ago I wasn't winner of the Fat Burger Triple-King Challenge. 8:32 minutes ago I didn't own a Fat Burger t-shirt. 8:32 minutes ago my stomach wasn't crowding out my left kidney. Next week my face goes up on the board. Next week I join the hall of fame. I hope I make it to next week, or the photo will double in my obituary.
Zuzu comes to us from Japan by way of a loving family in Kirkland. When she barks, I have no clue what she's saying.
She's a Cairn Terrier. She's 5.
I have learned to Twitter. At first, I didn't give it much thought. But then I remembered: brevity is attractive. My phone feels born-again.
This warning label above became something else entirely in my mind. Something wholly more frightening and disturbing. Requiring a re-invention in this new pictorial representation.
Be wary of those city parks filled with small people milling about.
While verballing recalling moments past, with a stranger by my side, I came to realize that I could safely have called myself a social bully. The people that I would come to call “friends” over the years were often gained through force of presence. I remember experiencing a feeling very much like desire when it came to befriending them.
I forced friendship with Arthur over his Street Fighter 2 prowess that was later forged by his ownership of numerous game consoles, a computer and Prodigy.
Coming to know Brian Elkan through Arthur on the basketball courts didn't get me any closer to him. It wasn't until I purposefully upset the balance of his Biology class room seating arrangement. He was a decent baller, an owner of a 9600 baud modem and was genuinely funny.
Brian Jennings and I shared a long bus ride home and at that point a few mutual friends. I am fairly certain that I followed him to his house to use his phone to spare me the walk down Beverly Glen. I would later come to take...
The first day of the New Year, my body spoke to me in Japanese. When I didn't listen, it started talking in unrealized impressionist paintings. Thick washes of azures and gold painted over blank canvases to tell me that I was in pain. A dull pain born from the victories against my wrestling combatants and the effort required to keep from the hovering police helicopters.
This New Year I listened to my body and we eventually came to an understanding. We reached a peace.
I accepted a position at Digeo. I watch television at work. It’s part of my job. Since working here I have fallen prey to a number of TV infomercials and products. All of them touting that highly regarded “As Seen on TV” label that often garnishes with it the armchair ‘cred’ as a wise shopper. It’s the beginning of the second week and I have already asked my boss for a raise. Three easy payments aren’t all that easy when you’ve got a few of them.
The watermark remains stable. It’s only Monday.
I am mostly susceptible to ordering when inebriated. I remember one night, a few years ago, I ended up watching the entire length of an infomercial. It was for a juicer … or so I thought. After the fruit-fucking exposition they moved on to vegetables, composting and yard trimmings - a silver bullet. It was then that a well dressed man walks on stage to much fanfare. He starts talking about the amazing uses of the devices. The meals and beverages he prepares for his family and friends...
This is likely my last day of employment at Vulcan.
I have 1 week of work. I get 2 weeks pay in lieu of notice. I get 2 weeks pay as severance. I have medical until the end of the year.
I have two very strong job leads. And a strong desire to drink.
Today is the anniversary of my birth. This anniversary is considered my golden birthday (I expect to be showered!). I never really had any particular expectations for this event, or this day. My thoughts are only this…
Any profundity of a statement made at this moment will be overshadowed by the sheer immensity of life I have yet to see.
A Big-Beefy, Brian Manwich
I'm naturally more reserved in an unfamiliar environment. Unfamiliar could mean the venue, the unpredictable schedule of events, or the crowd of people (It could also be my own internal feelings at the moment). If I'm without purpose and also alone in an environment where it's the opposite for everyone else, the feeling could be likened to be thrust upon a stage with no lines or solid directions.
In recent years, when I’ve been confronted with this situation, I've employed that tactic of cutting my teeth with a group. The skill is to find the group of least resistance. It is often a matter of paying attention. I will take a moment to notice superficial novelties, find the group’s energy, overhear the topics of conversation or get the sense they are eager for someone to approach.
While this is the similar to how I would approach most groups, it is a much more passive approach. Instead of receiving the attention of the group on the approach, I slip...
I have been absent. I could easily state that my recent birthday celebration has kept me from having the time to write, but that's not the real reasons. Lately I've struggled with the language of some of my compositions, read further about social interaction, and discovered, very recently, the seduction community. I have kept myself from executing on a thought.
I met a friend awhile back who diagrammed a social approach tactic. A conversational gambit. I mentally plotted a point. A commenter, on a friend's recently launched relationship blog, linked to his own blog. He was a PUA, Pickup Artist. Plotting the second point.
His inarticulate on-line presence didn't let me take the whole thing seriously. The seduction community, for a brief period of time, became a short story I exchanged with a few people in passing conversation. However, I delved further, genuinely interested in what men actually learned and how those that ran these boot camps were able to charge such high...
This video contains strong language and might not be suitable for children or safe for most work environments (NSFW).
At the party, Brian and I talked about the story of how we both botched the seduction of Leslie on the ride home from Disneyland. Back in High School, we both crushed on the same girl who happened to be sandwiched between us, 'passed out' on the bed in the back of the RV. Brian and I, unaware of each others' attempt to seduce the poor girl, found conveniently in the middle.
Girls at my recent Birthday Party, eager for man-on-man love, wanted to hear how Brian and I finished that night together. Re-telling the story, rekindled a love that Brian and I felt so long ago.