Considering weekend getaway(s) to Provincetown, Montreal. Anybody want to tag along?

Wet & dark. Early evening feels like the middle of the night. Late at night, can't sleep. Lame.

Going to make an effort to pull myself together, do some dishes.

& this little piggie went 'we, we, we, we' all the way home.

Poor little piggie.

Proud possessor of brand spanking new passport, pretty quick, should maybe leave country with this year's remaining vacation time.

Spent most of the morning sorting out bizarro Windows Vista/Microsoft Live OneCare firewall issue. Bizarro! Bizarro!

Wet world out there.

Slowly waking up, reviewing photos, musing on things linguistic & paralinguistic. Perils of a large tonal range.

Coming to the conclusion that I simply can't be honest with people about some of my reactions to things without terrifying them. Find this a bit of a drag as they are, after all, just reactions. There's a lot more going on. Not everybody needs the total picture, maybe just me, actually. Perfect information state.

Left to my own devices, coming up with more all the time. Thinking about being told that another had a pretty good idea of what my likely coping mechanisms were, suppose reductive thinking can be a comfort, nothing to do with me, of course.

Being a bit of a slugabed, you're observing the tip of the iceberg.

Been spending some time in a funny depersonalized state. Like ha ha funny. Beats panic.

Batty as all hell, I am. Still mostly pretty sweet & helpful. Difficult, but probably best.

Self is coming back, panic along with it, could really use some sleep.

Going to try to sleep.

Spent some time playing with Internet & camera, listening to African guitar music, now having sand hamwich & local soda. Dead on my feet, typical Sunday dilemma, if I go to bed now, next thing I'll be doing is getting ready for work.

Giant orange moon rising over the river made me cry like a baby, such a fucking sap.

Got back to the house, Syd Barrett was playing, it's too much.

Germs on now, that's better.

Just back from a trip to Vermont for Sunday burger & malted. Went to the Putney Diner, didn't have malteds, turned out, got a coffee shake instead, still quite nice. Bacon cheeseburger wasn't as absurdly huge as the other ones I've had recently, sort of a nice change, delicate, nice crispy bacon, good quality hand cut fries, needed a little salt.

Drove up to Santa's Land after to take pictures, passing Landmark College en route, 'King of the Road' looping in my head on top of thoughts of World Usability Day.

After that, went & walked around downtown Brattleboro in the light of sunset, taking more photos, looks like Lebanese place may be reopening soon, always up for nice Lebanese.

These things I'm doing, they're quite entertaining, but not what I'd really like to be doing. Stranger to have something I'd really rather be doing than not being able to do it, spent a very long time without anything like that, slowly getting used to it.

Took a very long time to fall asleep, then slept for a long time, deep, dreamless, woke up, still had a headache. Muscular tension.

Thinking about Blue's Clues, Roy G. Biv, mimeograph machines. Big sky's too big to sympathize.

More functional all the time, watch yourselves.

Nullity, big goose egg, so golden & radiant one could spent many blissful hours contemplating it & I do.

Despite everything, remain convinced boredom is the worst thing ever. The worst thing about the worst thing ever done to me- how fucking tedious & banal it was. Think this is probably true of all or at least most all of the most monstrous things people do. How haphazard so many people are, lacking even the semblance of style, unrepresentable, like boredom itself. So often I find myself looking at them & thinking things like, 'these scattered shreds of people, these barely even people, these are people of the future, from the future & I am something very old & tired.'

Was out walking a while ago, singing high little snatches of song, strange harmonies with the night sounds. Being startled by bare trees illuminated by street lamps.

Just back from doing a little work at work, funny mood. Going to watch some Death Note.

& the little bird said, 'What do you matter?'

Dark humor has always been a big thing for me, been pushing it a bit lately, parody, satire, shifting into something else, pure evil, maybe. Rather like it. Probably lucky for me that no one sees it for what it is.

They're always telling you, avoid cliché, latinate words, repeating the same words over & over. Nothing to do with us, written by & for machines, ponderous & gnomic by turns, all sorts of modes in between, all by way of parody, mockery, automatism. Parroty parrot, idling analytical engine, punting down the river with its pup.

Not quite as cold tonight.

Building a fresh copy of Wireshark, bit of a process. Have developed a headache.

Thinking, thinking, thinking.



Oh, god, does my head hurt.

T's been & gone again.

Odd for there to be two things on TV I'm actually interested in watching, right now it's Battlestar Galactica movie & this:

"Rosemary and Thyme: The Invisible Worm
Stagford Lodge Prep School is full of tradition, and classics master Richard Oakley intends to keep it that way, despite the efforts of the current Headmaster, Quentin Marshall, to drag the school into the 21st century. Quentin's wife, Eleanor, hires Rosemary and Laura to investigate why the school's newly planted roses are dying. Richard invites the ladies to the annual Night of the Stag, a long-held school ritual involving a member of staff, dressed as a stag, and the ritual humiliation of another teacher. But the festivities are brought to an abrupt end by the death of Simon Todd, the shy geography teacher. Are the dying roses and the mystery of Simon's death connected? Our lady gardeners find the intrigue beneath the school's surface respectability much more intense than first appearances suggest."

Imagine summary's better than actual program, watching Battlestar Galactica movie. Go, killer robots, go. See you at the big tree party later.

Just dropped T off at her folks so could pack some things for little trip to NYC, coming back over here in a bit to be picked up, jet set, red threat.

Driving back, half asleep on twisty, dark road, 'Hot for Teacher' looping in my head, stranger than fiction. Stopped for an Energy Vitamin Water at the corner store, drinking that now, everything alive with memory, pregnant with future.

Little cut on my right index fingertip, inevitably cut myself somewhere or other making these dinners, totally worth it.

Watching Black Sunday again.

Things I'm learning from biweekly dinner party with romantic comedy/horror double feature project:

1 ) I care vastly more about food than most people.
2 ) People tend to stay for the romantic comedy, leave when the horror starts. Not sure if this is a simple matter of sequencing or not.
3 ) Romantic comedies have better screenplays, horror movies better cinematography. This probably indicates something important about the reality of human experience.

Thinking about rereading The Story of the Eye, think I've lent out my copy. Also thinking about reading the new Murakami.

Too much to read, too much to do. It's pretty great, wish you were here.

Dinner party was a blast, fun times, fun people, bit of a family vibe. All but T have cleared off, watching Black Sunday in a happy food coma. Again, lots of leftovers, life will be easy in the coming days.

Very stylish movie, this one is.

Thinking about someone scripting her life as a melodrama & accusing me of being melodramatic for pointing it out. If it weren't so sad, the irony would be quite delicious, can't help but find it a bit amusing regardless.

Melodrama has been a problematic genre for me for a long time, find it hard to get inside of it. Suppose one might see it as a degenerate form of psychological realism, using broad strokes. More inclined to see it the other way around, with psychological realism being a form of melodrama that fetishizes subtlety. Tend to come at it from the other side, expressionism, the gothic, etc. Understand it well enough, I think, can't interpret it with a straight face, seems a requirement.

Feel a bit guilty about it, especially seeing how easily I slip into the other dominant form of popular narrative of the industrial era, the adventure story, the structure of that has always seemed to me deeply in contact with reality, "...and then...and then...and then..." Some sort of sexism, no doubt. Oh fuck, 'Along Came Jones', boy, are the Coasters brilliant.

Going to find my Coasters' Greatest Hits, put it on, get on with boiling potatoes.

Back from the world of the dead, getting started on dinner party, just tossed some cubes of Hubbard squash with maple syrup & oil, going to roast them once the oven's hot, then mash & set aside to be reheated later.

Lots to do, probably best.

Trying to work out preparation agenda, think I'll start soup around noon, making split pea, I've decided.

OK, going to do some dishes while oven preheats.

Even more tired, can't sleep. Spent some time curled in a ball crying, got up, had some coffee milk. Wondering why there's no coffee cereal. Seems like it would be a big seller. Also hysterical media hand wringing over the safety of children = free publicity.

Oh, such strange days.

Could use a very long rest. Won't get it.

Looking into alternatives.

Nice Korean was very nice indeed, T's gone off to visit elsewhere, feeling uncannily tired. Perhaps if I succumb to temptation & fall asleep I will find myself transported to strange & wonderful lands?

Was thinking of going & checking out some music at Hampshire, too darn tired.

Spent some time grouping & labeling Thanksgiving dinner photos, almost like a normal person, wow.

Beef curry accomplished, also made some cilantro walnut raita as I had the makings, nuts & yoghurt must be taboo somewhere.

T came by, forgot to bring her laptop, has therefore been monopolizing mine, poking people & the like.

We're going to go have some nice Korean, I think.

Back from errands, enjoying the sunny day, all is in readiness for food party prep. Going to fold laundry, tidy up around the house, get started on that. Going to install Leopard on laptop while all that's going on, I think.

Really overwhelming feelings of good will, not a damn thing to do with them.

Laundry's drying, going to head out to Amherst shortly.

Gotten a mite nippy, out with P, snapping snapshots, cold fingers. Was thinking about my artistic agenda, should be serious business insofar as it's my life to the extent that it doesn't involve others & I care about it, really more desperate but not serious. Anyway, thinking of introducing more in the way of composition, but then, I'm always thinking that. We'll see what happens.

Introducing more coffee into my system as a substitute for love & care, works pretty tolerably, great stuff.

Batteries in small portable devices all fully recharged, my own still in a bit of a state, lots of chores today, laundry's started, anyway.

Hard to understand how somebody who seems so interesting, lively & real could have such fragile senses of her own identity & the identities of others, wish I could stop thinking about it, have a hard time stopping thinking about things I find hard to understand, this is fucking sad enough that anybody in their right mind would eventually shy away from it, not entirely in my right mind, I guess.

Peretz wants out, in a minute, buddy.

I think once the laundry's in the dryer, going to make a trip to Amherst for further dinner party items, should really get around to inviting people, guess the food preparation's more my thing, should get a manager.

Cold again, wind in the treetops, high moon, nearly full, sailing through the clouds.

Thinking about little boy thinking about the world, thinking hard, leaning too far out & falling in. All in a rush, filled with its wars without end; its unceasing, merciless torment. Stayed down for quite a while, then pulled himself to shore. Never really the same after.

So what's the fucking body count today? So long since I bothered to even try to keep track. No suffering worse than what any one can suffer, anyway.

Desperate longing for peace, had a taste of that a while back, not deemed fit for it, soldiering on.

So tired.

Finally gave up on being social, home again. Watching The Birds.

Brief break from extended holiday festivities at T's folks' house, brought T & Zheka over to visit with Peretz, walk Peretz, feed Peretz. Took a lot of photos, shocker.

Weirdly tired, might be the lack of sleep, the turkey & strong drink, might be something mysterious & unexplainable.

OK, back to visiting with the family.

Shower & coffee bringing things into focus. Macy's parade on, wish I had some mescaline so I could enjoy it more thoroughly, thinking about Underdog, worried about Polly. Peretz wants to know what happened to Lamb Chop, I'll have a talk with him after I get back from humbly & lovably swapping backup tapes.

"When Polly's in trouble, I am not slow,
So it's hip! hip! hip! and away I go."

Can I just say, 'ick?'



Really, ick, ick, ick.

All blurry this morning.

Work to do, work to do.

Could use a real conversation.

Yet heavier fog made driving T back over to her folks' a bit harrowing, me a bit more worried about Henry & Nancy, driving to Albany.

Grammar is a gas.

PJs, TV, &c., &c.

Drinking blue mountain coffee, on a school night no less, day off in the middle of the week keeps leaving me confused as to what day it is, that despite my realizing it's the middle of the week & that tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Lying in a pile with Peretz, T's here playing with Facebook.

Head's in strange places, partly the coffee, no doubt, partly other things.

Vicissitudes of T's busy social schedule now dictate dinner party on Saturday afternoon rather than Sunday evening, just as glad to have it on the actual Sabbath anyway, you're still more than welcome. Probably starting around three.

Think I've settled on an inverted cross made of napoleons in a bed of berries as the dessert item.

Wondering if I could find anyone willing to print this on a sheet cake:



Probably not, crap.

Think I've managed to come up with a dinner menu guaranteed to make its consumers ritually impure with respect to most major and many minor religions. Here it is:

Baked ham with challah & cheese for sandwiches
Bean soup with leeks, shallots, onions, garlic
Garlic ginger encrusted potatoes
Some sort of beef curry
Roasted, smashed hubbard
Coffee, strong drink

Haven't come up with a suitable dessert yet. Will hopefully have the assistance of an unclean woman to aid in food preparation. Anyway, Sunday evening, showing Nothing Sacred & Black Sunday. Please come.

Bonus points for the person identifying the most taboos violated.

Finally worked up the energy to shower & take P out, snow's melting fast.

Waiting to hear from T, assume she's still sleeping.

Pretty damn awesome

Just sent an email to the Massachusetts Office of Consumer Affairs and Business Regulation:

"Hi,

I'm curious if you folks have records of Verizon response times to trouble calls and whether these records distinguish between lines that they provision directly and lines leased to third parties, and, if so, whether that data is available to the public in either a raw or analyzed form.

Thanks"

Wonder if I'll hear back.

Looking over photos I took at the airport last night while awaiting T, think this is my favorite:



Was up way too late, having a hard time focusing, coffee helps.

Driving to the airport in the heavy fog, in my head: having been the mechanism by which someone I love found a more radical means of self destruction than suicide is no picnic, find it unbearable much of the time; at the same time realize that I should be happy to have helped her do something she wanted to do, no matter how stupid I think it is, and oddly, I sometimes am. In my heart: systole, pain; diastole, nothing- prefer the pain, frankly, easier to ignore things that actually exist.

Anyway, caricature, esoteric humor, irony, true enough for all that.

Last bit of the drive, tailgated by BMW with high beams on, the bastard.

T's plane was early, but not as early as claimed, spent some time bored in the airport, taking photographs, getting dirty looks. Not sure how much of that was people's uncanny hostility to public photography, how much the Tinkerbell hat.

T finally arrived, lovely to see her, she had brought Camera Lucida along to read, apparently doesn't much care for it. Fetched her luggage, went to car, drove home hearing about emergent issues in brave new life, made an effort to dispense sage advice, ridiculous.

Peretz was strangely agitated by her arrival, kept running down to the basement, returning with bone, going to his bed, running back down to the basement, etc., etc. T was also roaming about, bathroom, examining random objects. Eventually they both settled down & treated one another highly affectionately, took pictures of that too.

We took P for a walk, then I drove T over to her folks' house through more thick fog, deer in the road on the way, turned around confusedly, looked at us, passed a secret sign & was on its way.

Meditating on Lord Ganesh, remover & setter of obstacles. An elephant never forgets.

Perusing the source code of an IRC controlled DoS bot people have been trying to install on my web server today, pretty rudimentary, you'd think people would make more of an effort. This one's configured to connect initially to 217.79.190.56, if that's you & you aren't meaning to control a bunch of DoS bots, you might want to go offline and sort some things out.

The attempts from this morning were looking for already exploited boxes, now it's some awstats exploit from three years ago, pretty weak tea, if you ask me.

And I imagine I'm bored, christ.

Talking to my mom just now, she was asking whether I noticed my moods varying with time of day. Not really. Suggested she go through this, rate posts by mood & graph against the time stamps. She thinks maybe I'm in a better mood when I've eaten, I think that's partially true, though I think it's a complex thing, also involving how tired I am, what I've been thinking about, what I've been observing.

Being a highly capable person has a lot of downsides, capability tends to get devalued socially as everyone, just to get through the day, needs to think of themselves as basically capable and adequate. Mostly people aren't that capable; no one is adequate.

Out in the dark fog with P, thinking thoughts exceeding grim, not in any sort of bad mood at all, rested, just had some tasty pasta. But, as I say, exceeding grim. Meditating on the surgeon's scalpel, the butcher's knife. A world of unbearable things, just keep pressing forward, killer robot.

I think trying to maintain an alertness to genuine beauty requires a constant effort to see things as they are. How things are is pretty bleak, I find.

Maybe it's just me.

Making pasta with spicy Italian sausages, made from happy pigs, probably made suggestions on how they could best be seasoned while being fed into the grinder. What I would do, anyway.

Thinking about being unable to care much about people without being hypercritical of them.

Thinking about my grandma, how we're a lot alike.

News from the wide world of Web 2.0:

"From: rmnadel

Subject: Your Wi-Fi photo


Hi peretzpup,

Here's a personal note from ryan nadel:
___________________________________________________________


I'd like to use your wi-fi photos to illustrate an article I posted on NowPublic.com. Please follow the link to allow the photos to be used with the article and to read it. Give me a shout at rnadel(at)nowpublic(dot)com if you have any questions.

please click on this link - where you can approve or reject its use:

www.nowpublic.com/import/4743573bbd7b02.57606424
____________________________________________________________

NowPublic is a news sharing community that uses stories, photos, & videos from sources like you.

If you would like to learn more about this request, and the context in which your photo might be used, click on this link:

www.nowpublic.com/import/4743573bbd7b02.57606424

If you do give your permission, your photo will always remain your property, and whatever license you have specified will follow its use on NowPublic.com

If you have any concerns about this, please contact our Quality Assurance Coordinator at quality@nowpublic.com"

"To:rmnadel

Subject: Re: Your Wi-Fi photo

Hi Ryan,

Well, I've given you permission to use my photo, but I have to say, given that it was already licensed in a way allowing you to use it, having to jump through the hoops of making an account at a site & agreeing to their terms of use was kind of annoying. You might want to draw their attention to that.

Best"

"From: rmnadel

Subject: Re: Your Wi-Fi photo


Hi Eugene,

Thanks for including your photo with my article. The reason the import process is designed as is, is in order to ensure that the contributor maintain ownership over their work . So even though one has it set to CC we want the owner of the photo to be credited and to remain the owner.

Regards,
Ryan"

"To: rmnadel

Subject: Re: Your Wi-Fi photo

Funny, to me it looks more like a way to boost your contributor count. Seems to me you could satisfy the attribution clause more adequately by just linking back to the flickr account I actually use. Honestly, anybody using an Attribution, Attribution-ShareAlike, or Attribution-NoDerivs license has already given permission to you to use their work as you're using it, obviously you have the facilities to determine which license the pictures are under, requiring people to fill out a form & agree to your terms of use to permit you to do something they've already explicitly allowed seems pretty screwed up, honestly. If you're genuinely concerned about using people's work without their permission even when they've already given permission, I would think a notification that you're using it with an opt out method would be more appropriate, would waste less time, wouldn't require agreeing to anything."

Going to walk the pup.

Ah, the vagaries of Google.

Click quick or you might miss it.

Spending a lot of time annoyed at the stupidity of people, organizations, etc. today. Don't know who they're fucking about with, obviously. Oh, well, so much the worse for them.

Snow has gone all slushy, taking care of a few final things at work before heading out for some extended leisure time.

T just called, about to get on her flight.

Snow's already changed over to rain, took some pictures, took more than are up now, actually, will add them later.

Took another walk around the block before coming into work, little ghost leaves no footprints.

It's snowing. Can't stop crying.

Must be those emotional problems.

Anyway, it's pretty beautiful, need to wake up a little more, then it's out in the woods with P to poke around.

Digging on the coffee milk pretty hard, should maybe move to Rhode Island.

Had been trying to think of sacrilegious foods for next dinner party, came up with one I found funny, but which wasn't suitable for dinner party, so I just made it, anyway, matzoh brei with bacon.

Pretty good, square meal, four matzohs, four eggs, four twists of the pepper mill, four strips of bacon. Peretz wants.

In the course of going through my refrigerator, trying to figure out what, if anything, I should make myself for dinner, realized that I had fresh parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme in there.

Screw cooking dinner, going out to look for America. Here's to you, Joe DiMaggio. Etc., etc.

Devotion, death wish?



We report, you decide.

Been doing coffee syrup comparisons, prefer the Autocrat to the Eclipse, I think, nice malty quality, should seek out some Coffee Time syrup & try that, strange all three are from the same company.

Peretz is demanding attentions, too damn tired.

Out in the pale blue twilight with P, photographing the now mostly skeletal trees, singing 'Pale Blue Eyes' quietly to myself.

Funny always finding new cracks in the songs one knows very well to nestle oneself into, thinking about Benjamin talking about how love hides in the imperfections of one's beloved like little birds, can't remember the exact quote, getting old.

Henry's mom got through her operation OK.

Just went & brought somebody's problematic vpn up, got a bottle of Taurino Salice Salantino for my trouble, happy days. Would normally grumble about there being nobody to drink it with, but T's flying in tomorrow, l'chaim.

Spent the day tired, brings on more distressing thoughts than normal, worry, feeling bad about asking more of others than they feel able to do. Hard call when you have a lot of confidence in somebody else's ability to do something and know it would be a good thing to do, but also know the other person doesn't share your confidence- hard to know whether to give it a shot, trying to be encouraging, or just trust the other person's self assessment and give it a miss. Made the wrong call, I guess, feel pretty bad about it sometimes. Hell.

Thinking about nap.

I enjoy shallots.




Always time for taco night.

Dead on my feet, going to be a long day.

Should be getting ready for work, reading A Century of Innovation: The 3M Story instead.

Up early, things to do, moving a bit slowly, sandy eyes. Need to shower, walk dog, go by work, drop off nonfunctional computer, get functional computer, take it to Amherst. More coffee first.

Surprisingly violent dreams, even for me, conviction that lost love one is going to harm herself is starting to slip, imagine she will once it's gone entirely. An artist, fond of irony, like me.

Realizing more & more that my sense of humor is largely lost on people, so much the worse for them, pity.

Tragedy, pfft.

Didn't end up drifting off, did make a phone call, then took the dog for another walk, then made pancakes with some of the leftover roasted vegetables from yesterday, eggs, cream, flour, etc. to go with my leftover homemade applesauce.



Quite the happy homemaker, fuck, is it ever sad.

Henry split for home a while ago, walked the dog, melting into couch, uploading photos. Peretz is asleep beneath my legs, dreaming, twitching.

Wonder when if ever I'm going to be able to stop being busy without scary darkness closing in, it's nice to be getting a lot done, but I'm pretty tired much of the time. No worse than expected anyway.

Maybe I'll drift off, maybe I'll make some phone calls.

Nice little trip out to the Berkshires with Henry, walked around largely empty Pittsfield, taking pictures, got a bacon cheeseburger & a malted at Burger, little pricey, not as good as Cruisers Malt Shoppe, still pretty good, interesting cuminy spicy fries. Tried to go to Greylock summit, forgetting to remember, if I ever knew, that both of the access roads are closed for extensive work & will remain so for the foreseeable future, took a little walk in the woods by the south end visitor center, little bits of granular snow nestled in leaves, birches radiant in the wintry light. Stopped & looked at icicles by the famous hairpin turn.

Two Sundays in a row I've gone out of town for a bacon cheeseburger & a malted, may make it a regular practice.

Hectic weekend, bit worn out, having some coffee. Lucky I'm not Henry, he needs to drive home to NYC, then drive over to his mom's place to give her a hand with some things, just found out while in Pittsfield that she's having knee surgery tomorrow, yikes.

Servers rebooted, dog walked, about to go on a tour of the hills with Henry.

Been a big year for learning things, all sorts of things, but here's a big one: it's a safe assumption that people who act like big fucking babies over trivial matters will also act like big fucking babies when it comes to things of importance. This was a hard thing for me to accept, but it's well & truly burned into my brain now. More realistic expectations of people always a good thing.

OK, bring on the extreme natural beauty.

Went to show for a while, nice, but too damn crowded, brought some folks back here, fed them drinks & cheese, watched cartoon, listened to Spike Jones.

Damn tired, should go to sleep, messing about with photos.

Tenderloin medallions in cream sauce came out nice, subtle, delightful, happy pig from which they were hewn could look down from Valhalla nodding approvingly, I think. Used this recipe, pretty much, though I used olive oil not vegetable oil & would term the temperature at which I browned the medallions medium high. Vegetables went well with it, tangy whang of sherry vinegar contrasting nicely with the cream sauce.

Lots of little aches & pains, still, overall, feel quite pleasant.

Going to go see music at Hungry Ghost in a bit, I think.

Went on extensive donut/rotary expedition with Henry, fun, bit nippy, beautiful skies. Stopped on way home at Table & Vine for more of that scotch Henry likes, also got some caramelized onion cheddar, etc. Also went by Big E's for some items necessary for pork tenderloin medallions in calvados cream sauce. Me fondling shallots:



Roasting squash, pumpkin, onion, apples to go with pork.

Getting directions between Mrs. Murphy's Donuts in Southwick & the East Longmeadow rotary, nice to have interests.

Couldn't remember exact location of rotary, fortunately, it's easy to spot on a map.

Lots of music going on tonight, may even go to some of it.

Home again, sitting on sofa, sipping on soda. Chinese restaurant workers in front apartment are singing very loudly.

Hurt all over, particularly the soles of my feet.

Thinking sad thoughts, I'm not particularly sad, though.

Still in lonely office configuring workstations, windy out, sounds funny against the office building. A thousand little installers & uninstallers, could really use a beverage, soda machine out in the corridor, no change.

Want to get home to my pup. Soon, I hope.

Workstation deployment well underway, old stations down, new up, needed to bring some monitors & such back to the main office, get some other stuff. Managed to slam my left index finger between monitor & steel door, hurts a bit.

Home feeding the dog his dinner, going to take him for a walk after, then go back & try to get finished.

Horrible how often the only way I have to be helpful is to be instructive, often in fairly harsh ways, far from my preference, strong impulse to be helpful, crap.

Peace & love, peace & love.

Listening to Ruins, thinking about interfaces to reference resources, again, ridiculous.

Two things I'm thinking about them, one is that the design criteria for them need to be the same as the ones not just for other search interfaces, but for software in general, a big criterion here is: can the untrained user get satisfactory enough results using the product to be motivated to use the product to the point that they develop substantial skill with it, obviously leveraging preexisting skills and having sane default behaviors are big here. The other thing is: the crappiness of proprietary interfaces to proprietary dbs- it's tempting to either just throw up one's hands or to try designing nicer federated search to work around their fragmentation and lousy interfaces. I think this is a mistake, this needs to be addressed at the source as a political problem if it's going to be solved satisfactorily, libraries are these companies' primary source of revenue, they should therefore be facing a united front of customers with standards to shove down their throats, standard query syntax, standard apis, standard record structure, but above all, standards for licensing terms providing direct access to data.

As I say, I have nothing to do with any of this, ridiculous.

Little bound books of some of my photos printed by flickr affiliate have arrived, pretty much just a little perfect bound edition of this photoset. Didn't have very many printed, but if anybody would like a copy, just let me know.

Coworker recommended hot dog joint in Worcester, going to go check it out at some point.

Still feeling shaky, trying to get myself together for workstation deployment, may run into the wee hours, going to sort through some photos & have a soda, I think.

Went for that walk, bright & crisp. Got a burrito and picked up an Ethel Merman & a Ruins cd, listening to Ethel Merman.

Looking into legal matters.

Slept in, feel like I'm moving through molasses this morning. Mmm, molasses.

Bit gray earlier, sun seems to be out now, going to take a walk, maybe get some lunch.

Check it out, Expression of IGFBP, Wnt and IL-1 Related Genes in Keloid versus Normal Fibroblasts, go Mom.

Has always made me feel very happy when people I care about get work published or noticed or whatever, silly of me in a way, but how it is.

Having a pretty full on panic episode, lucky I don't need to work in the morning.

Case of the fidgets, thinking, feel a bit warm, walked around a bit before, tempting to walk around more now.

Waves of panic, thinking of people falling to their deaths.

Thinking about other things, some of them even pleasant.

Blazing Saddles is on. Not really the same expurgated for television, still a bit like slipping into a warm bath.

Having fun filling in the offensive words mentally, actually. Wonder how many times I saw this movie as a child.

Maybe Dr. Strangelove will be on later. Dare to dream.

Despite being done with work for the day, decided to check on the responsiveness of the paper's website. Mistake. More about yesterday's public suicide downtown.

Left the house in a panic, decided to go to Outlook for local tenderloins, pouring rain, driving way too fast down 66, crying, not remotely safe, perfectly aware of that, didn't give a damn.

Pure despair, meet your long-lost twin, pure terror. Separated before birth, a tricky procedure.

Got to Outlook, got tenderloins, chorizo for later, totally gratuitous apple dumplings. Took a picture of their cider donuts:



Had it more or less together for the drive back, took it easier, body full of nicotine, head full of projects, heart full of unrequited love.

Sigh. The flame that burns twice as brightly lasts half as long. Getting back to my posthumous life.

Out in the rain with P, hyperalert, head full of poetry, some mine, mostly other folks'. Other folks' mostly a lot better, keep coming back to Blake, to reiterate:

I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
"Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release."
Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay,
Till the sun went down
And haycocks looked brown.
I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze,
"Mercy could be no more,
If there was nobody poor,
And pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we."
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.
Down pour'd the heavy rain
Over the new reap'd grain ...
And Miseries increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.

Don't know how widely read that is, people mostly don't understand what they read anyway, fuck it.

Listening to 'That Haunting Melody'.

Did anyone prophesize these people?- only Wallace, come in, Wallace:

"Granted, we die for good.
Life, then, is largely a thing
Of happens to like, not should.

And that, too, granted, why
Do I happen to like red bush,
Grey grass and green-gray sky?

What else remains? But red,
Gray, green, why those of all?
That is not what I said:

Not those of all. But those.
One likes what one happens to like.
One likes the way red grows.

It cannot matter at all.
Happens to like is one
Of the ways things happen to fall."

Rainy day, finally settling into the fall, the aloneness, rather like it.

Peretz & I are both quite wet.

Out on rainy morning walk, taking snapshots when it wasn't raining too hard, thinking about how people often substitute exaggerated self loathing for substantive self criticism, it's easier, tends to focus on supposedly essential characteristics of the self, precludes change as a response. People, live people anyway, aren't like tables and chairs, they're processes, swarms of them. Any treatment of people as being absolutely one way or another is always partial and false, premature hypostasis, until it's too late.

Tired of being treated as a dead thing, thinking of others treating themselves that way. It's not any fun & it's not how things are.

Drinking more coffee.

For once fell asleep without music playing, reminded myself why I go to sleep with music playing, deep sleep, no escape from nightmares.

Anyway, more sleep than usual, could've probably done with less.

Rainy morning, warm, colder later. Reading about poor guy who took a dive off the parking garage downtown. Making me cry, had enough of it. Anyway, don't despair, help is on the way, war is over if you want it, etc., etc.

When Henry's here over the weekend, we're going to make pork tenderloin medallions with a calvados cream sauce, I think.

Long walk with Peretz through the dark rainy woods turned into extremely long walk as we ran into prepress expert from out of town just before getting home & walked around with him for quite a while talking shop. Peretz made a lot of very insightful points about tone curves & the like, the usual.

Had some nice half grapefruit/half lemon, thinking of moving on to stronger stuff.

We enjoyed our burgers very much, thanks.

Time for a postprandial promenade, I think. Maybe a bit of painting the town rouge.

Pip-pip!

"We have examined the product according to your request, and, it was found that the pcb assembly was inoperative so that the power supply did not operate properly. The pcb ass'y, dc/dc, optical unit, and finder unit were replaced. Other inspection and cleaning, mechanical adjustments and parts replacements were carried out.196" My poor baby.

On the way back from hospital, stopped by new Big Y to check it out, get dog biscuits, etc. Still a bit bummed by the loss of the full scale Table & Vine, but they do stock Rao's coffee (preground & more expensive, though given the nauseating aroma of hazelnut wafting from the grinder, the preground part might be an upside), cheese selection much improved, ability to buy whisky at a grocery store made me feel that civilization had arrived. This feeling was a bit diminished by watching my underage cashier need to call over somebody else to handle the demon substance, in any case, the place kicks Stop 'n' Shop's sad little ass in so many ways and on so many levels that I have a nice, warm, glowy feeling. Some of that might be scotch.

Going to make burgers for me & P now, kisses.

FedEx having once again affixed a failure notice to my neighbor's door without even attempting delivery to mine, it has become necessary for me to go wrest my little darlin' from the clutches of the evil West Hatfield, some time after 6:30. Imagine it's already twirling its waxed mustachios and laughing maniacally in anticipation of our encounter. Quick wit, pure heart, Tinkerbell hat- we'll see who laughs last.

Only hope she gets through the experience with her virtue intact.

Oh, also, my Elph has been repaired & shipped & should arrive some time today. Save me, fairy princess!

Reading about disasters has slowed down my morning considerably, made me feel more my old self, information, information.

Should really shower, walk the dog, etc.

Also quite remarkable:

"PARACHUTE FAILED TO WORK

Dangerous Flight of Miss Hasbrook in a Balloon.

INCIDENT OF THE DANBURY FAIR

She Was Obliged to Remain with the Balloon Until It Finally Settled to Karth---Results of the Horse Racing on Yesterday's Card.

Danbury, Oct. 5.---An unusually large Wednesday crowd was in attendance at the Danbury fair yesterday, 8,000 person being present during the day. While the number of fakirs on the grounds is as large as usual there is but little gambling going on. Two or three shoestring gamblers operated during the day but were very circumspect. Several law and order league spotters were on the grounds but did nothing. It is said that the league does not intend to make any arrests.

An exciting incident of the day was the perilous adventure of a female aeronaut, who is making parachute jumps. At 3 o'clock Miss Laura Hasbrook made a balloon ascension from the fair grounds. The balloon rose to an immense height. Miss Hasbrook was unable to free the parachute from the big bag and was compelled to ride out the flight of the balloon, which ascended far above the height which hot air balloons commonly reach. The spectators were firmly convinced that the daring young woman would lose her life. The balloon floated over the city to a point four miles from the fair grounds before it settled to the earth. It landed in a tree and Miss Hasbrook was taken from its branches none the worse for her misadventure save for the result of the nervous strait. She made another ascension today.

New Haven Evening Register, New Haven, CT 5 Oct 1899"

Stumbled upon a quite remarkable site just now, GenDisasters, "Events that touched our ancestors' lives", browsing the Massachusetts section.

"Otis Skeele, of Chicopee, Mass., 79 years of age, was instantly and accidentally killed Friday evening by falling from the scaffolding of his barn, whither he had gone to catch some chickens.

The New Hampshire Patriot, Concord, NH 13 Apr 1870"

Western Mass. is a bit underrepresented, should perhaps start combing through the paper's archive.

Jess called, off the hook for driving folks to Logan, still on lots of other hooks.

Calvados, kugel, kugel improves as it sits, luxurious, apple-infused goodness.

Quite tired.

Realized after writing that last bit that many readers may not know what a RIP is. Raster image processor. Here's wikipedia's helpful description of the stages of RIP:

"Stages of RIP

1. Interpretation: This is the stage where any PDL (Page description language) which get feed in RIP is being understand by it i.e., RIP cannot understand commands written in PS (a PDL). Interpreter helps him to understand all the information written in PDL.

2. Rendering: A process through which interpreted PDL is turned into a continuous tone bitmap.

3. Screening: In order to print, Bitmap which is in continuous tone state is converted in halftone (Patter of dots). Amplitude Modification or AM screening (Dot size varies based on Object density/tonal values. Dots are placed in a fixed grid.) and stochastic or Frequency Modulation or FM screening (Dot size remain same and they are placed in random order to create dark or lighter area of object/Image. Dot placement is precisely controlled by sophisticated mathematical algorithms) are two screening methods/types."

HTH.

Ended up having to rush back over to work to deal with RIP crash, on my way out of house Tim came by, lent him toy camera for trip to Europe, may end up needing to take those guys to Logan tomorrow, went for nice Moroccan with colleague, came home, walked dog, once taking the time to give the matter the slightest thought, realized I could sort out Valley Free Radio's immediate issue with their stream without looking at the server, told them how to do that, walked to town for a drink with folks, no one in restaurant offered to sell me one, brought folks back over to my place, fed them sake & leftovers, had sake myself, Peretz got to play with Leo the poodle, guests went away, walked the dog again.

Maybe this is what they call flow, finding it a bit tiring.

Going to have some more to drink I think, also maybe some kugel.

Very busy day at work, going to go out for dinner with a colleague from out of town in a bit, go take a look at a streaming server after that, come home & do some more work that I didn't have time to get to but which will bother me if I don't.

Keep sneezing, not just the mold, electricians running cable yesterday dumped a bunch of ceiling tile dust in the server room.

Peretz is eating his breakfast.

Fog finally cleared off & it turned into a glorious fall day, just back from walking around with P in it.

Meeting at the Recorder ran a bit long, so Adams Donuts was closed for the day by the time I got there, was taking some exterior shots when the owner came out, apologized for being out of donuts, talked with me a bit & gave me a free whoopee pie, an unusually good one, actually. I suggested putting photos of donuts on their website.

Think I need to go back up there in a couple of weeks, will endeavor to remember to pick up some donuts beforehand that time.

Foggy morning, outside & in, just made a group icon for Western Mass. Donut Watch,, pouring some coffee in, need to walk the dog & drive to Greenfield for a meeting. Hoping to hit Adams Donuts after.

Schedule this week is unusually busy, it's good, less boring, still pretty boring.

Up too late, talking to pal about his more interesting job. Should probably go to bed.

Interesting to have had my ability to trust others systematically destroyed. Funny how people, subjected to some unpleasant process, so often feel compelled to experiment with reproducing its effects in others. Probably not the best test subject, never been a trusting sort & near total indifference to most everything makes producing a reasonable simulacrum of trust a fairly simple exercise, imagine I could work one up if it seemed called for. So, something which in one person has a totally devastating effect on her ability to live a satisfying life, in my case has effects which are, quite honestly, for the most part, pretty subtle, barely noticeable if I'm not actively pointing them out. Suppose that could be instructive, best of luck with your research.

Light rain is falling, spent some time wandering around with Peretz in it, wishing it were snow.

It's raining.

Thinking about green chile burritos.

Left work a bit early, taking some inadequate recompense for last night's interference with my sleep, already pitch dark anyway, collapsed on the couch, hurting, mouth dry, eyes dry, distraught. Worked up the energy to stagger feebly to the refrigerator, got out the container of braised red cabbage with apples, had a few mouthfuls and felt instantly, drastically better.

No two ways about it, the stuff is the food of the fucking gods, wonder why I don't make it more often- never mind, scratch that, know perfectly well why, T wouldn't eat it & my farm share didn't include any red cabbage this year. In any case, intend to make it a great deal more frequently in the coming months.

Wonder if there's a local source for brats.

Would be quite mind-boggling were any one person stupid enough to put me in a position where I felt it necessary to determine whether he or she had any priorities higher than avoiding upsetting feelings, more understandable when it's a pair, groups being almost always stupider than individuals, still pretty shockingly stupid, as, if there's something I need to know, I'll do what's necessary to find it out.

Anyway, need to go to Holyoke to fetch a switch or two, hoping being out in the open air does me good.

"All life we work, but work is a bore. If life's for living, what's living for?"

Turtles all the way down.

Boss is out, work's nuts, home for lunch, had some cold kugel & reheated coffee, going to walk the dog.